GIFT  OF 

FORD  'BACON 


CHEISTUS 


A   MYSTERY 


BY 


HENRY  WADSWORTH  LONGFELLOW 


PART   I. THE    DIVINE   TRAGEDY 


BOSTON 
JAMES  K.  OSGOOD  AND  COMPANY 

1872 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1872, 

BY   HENHY   WADSW011TH    LONGFELLOW, 
in.  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS:  WELCH,  BIGELOW,  &  Co., 
CAMBRIDGE.        ,     , 


A  i 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

INTROITUS i 

THE  DIVINE  TRAGEDY. 
THE  FIRST  PASSOVER. 

I.  Vox  CLAMANTIS 9 

II.    MOUNT   QUARANTANIA             ....  13 

III.  THE  MARRIAGE  IN  CANA        .        .        .  17 

IV.  IN  THE  CORNFIELDS 23 

V.  NAZARETH 27 

VI.  THE  SEA  OF  GALILEE 31 

VII.  THE  DEMONIAC  OF  GADARA    ....  35 

VIII.  TALITHA  CUMI 40 

IX.  THE  TOWER  OF  MAGDALA       ....  42 

X.  THE  HOUSE  OF  SIMON  THE  PHARISEE       .  45 

THE   SECOND   PASSOVER. 

I.  BEFORE  THE  GATES  OF  MACH^RUS         .        .  51 

II.  HEROD'S  BANQUET-HALL     ....  53 

III.  UNDER  THE  WALLS  OF  MACIL-ERUS       .       .  59 

IV.  NlCODEMUS  AT   NlGHT 62 

V.  BLIND  BARTIMEUS 66 

VI.   JACOB'S  WELL 70 

VII.  THE  COASTS  OF  C^SAREA  PHILIPPI       .       .  75 

VIII.  THE  YOUNG  RULER  82 


284761 


iv  Contents. 

IX.  AT  BETHANY     .        .       .       .       .       .       '85 

X.  BORN  BLIND 87 

XI.   SIMON  MAGUS  AND  HELEN  OF  TYRE     .       .  92 

THE  THIRD  PASSOVER. 

I.  THE  ENTRY  INTO  JERUSALEM     ...  103 

II.  SOLOMON'S  PORCH 107 

III.  LORD,  is  IT  I? 114 

IV.  THE  GARDEN  OF  GETHSEMANE       .        .        .117 
V.   THE  PALACE  OF  CAIAPHAS  ....  121 

VI.   PONTIUS  PILATE •     .  127 

VII.   BARABBAS  IN  PRISON 129 

VIII.   ECCE  HOMO 132 

IX.   ACELDAMA 136 

X.  THE  THREE  CROSSES 138 

XL   THE  Two  MARIES 141 

XII.  THE  SEA  OF  GALILEE 143 

EPILOGUE 149 

FIRST  INTERLUDE.    THE  ABBOT  JOACHIM        .        .  151 


THE 


DIVINE    TRAGEDY 


INTROITUS 

The  ANGEL  bearing  the  PROPHET  HABAKKUK  through 
the  air. 

PROPHET. 

WHY  dost  thou  bear  me  aloft, 
O  Angel  of  God,  on  thy  pinions 
O'er  realms  and  dominions  ? 
Softly  I  float  as  a  cloud 
In  air,  for  thy  right  hand  upholds  me, 
Thy  garment  enfolds  me ! 

ANGEL. 

Lo  !  as  I  passed  on  my  way 
In  the  harvest-field  I  beheld  thee, 
When  no  man  compelled  thee, 
Bearing  with  thine  own  hands 
This  food  to  the  famishing  reapers, 
A  flock  without  keepers  ! 

The  fragrant  sheaves  of  the  wheat 
Made  the  air  above  them  sweet ; 
Sweeter  and  more  divine 
Was  the  scent  of  the  scattered  grain, 
i 


, 

'  7ntroitus 

That  the  reaper's  hand  let  fall 

.To  be  gathered  again 

By  the  hand  of  the  gleaner ! 

Sweetest,  divinest  of  all, 

Was  the  humble  deed  of  thine, 

And  the  meekness  of  thy  demeanor ! 

PROPHET. 

Angel  of  Light, 

I  cannot  gainsay  thee, 

I  can  but  obey  thee ! 

ANGEL. 

Beautiful  was  it  in  the  Lord's  sight, 

To  behold  his  Prophet 

Feeding  those  that  toil, 

The  tillers  of  the  soil. 

But  why,should  the  reapers  eat  of  it 

And  not  the  Prophet  of  Zion 

In  the  den  of  the  lion  ? 

The  Prophet  should  feed  the  Prophet ! 

Therefore  I  thee  have  uplifted, 

And  bear  thee  aloft  by  the  hair 

Of  thy  head,  like  a  cloud  that  is  drifted 

Through  the  vast  unknown  of  the  air  I 

Five  days  hath  the  Prophet  been  lying 
In  Babylon,  in  the  den 
Of  the  lions,  death-defying, 


Introitus 

Defying  hunger  and  thirst ; 

But  the  worst 

Is  the  mockery  of  men  ! 

Alas  !  how  full  of  fear 

Is  the  fate  of  Prophet  and  Seer  1 

Forevermore,  forevermore, 

It  shall  be  as  it  hath  been  heretofore ; 

The  age  in  which  they  live 

Will  not  forgive 

The  splendor  of  the  everlasting  light, 

That  makes  their  foreheads  bright, 

Nor  the  sublime 

Fore-running  of  their  time  ! 

PROPHET. 

O  tell  me,  for  thou  knowest, 
Wherefore  and  by  what  grace, 
Have  I,  who  am  least  and  lowest, 
Been  chosen  to  this  place, 
To  this  exalted  part  ? 

ANGEL. 

Because  thou  art 

The  Struggler ;  and  from  thy  youth 

Thy  humble  and  patient  life 

Hath  been  a  strife 

And  battle  for  the  Truth ; 

Nor  hast  thou  paused  nor  halted, 

Nor  ever  in  thy  pride 


(.•  Introitus 

Turned  from  the  poor  aside, 
But  with  deed  and  word  and  pen 
Hast  served  thy  fellow-men  ; 
Therefore  art  thou  exalted  ! 

PROPHET. 

By  thine  arrow's  light 
Thou  goest  onward  through  the  night, 
And  by  the  clear 
Sheen  of  thy  glittering  spear  ! 
When  will  our  journey  end  ? 

ANGEL. 

Lo,  it  is  ended  ! 
Yon  silver  gleam 
Is  the  Euphrates  stream. 
Let  us  descend 
Into  the  city  splendid, 
Into  the  City  of  Gold  I 

PROPHET. 

Behold  ! 

As  if  the  stars  had  fallen  from  their  places 

Into  the  firmament  below, 

The  streets,  the  gardens,  and  the  vacant  spaces 

With  light  are  all  aglow ; 

And  hark ! 

As  we  draw  near, 

What  sound  is  it  I  hear 

Ascending  through  the  dark  ? 


Introitus 

ANGEL. 

The  tumultuous  noise  of  the  nations, 
Their  rejoicings  and  lamentations, 
The  pleadings  of  their  prayer, 
The  groans  of  their  despair, 
The  cry  of  their  imprecations, 
Their  wrath,  their  love,  their  hate  ! 

PROPHET. 

Surely  the  world  doth  wait 
The  coming  of  its  Redeemer ! 

ANGEL. 

Awake  from  thy  sleep,  O  dreamer ! 
The  hour  is  near,  though  late ; 
Awake  !  write  the  vision  sublime, 
The  vision,  that  is  for  a  time, 
Though  it  tarry,  wait ;  it  is  nigh ; 
In  the  end  it  will  speak  and  not  lie. 


THE    DIVINE    TRAGEDY 


THE   FIRST   PASSOVER 


THE   DIVINE   TRAGEDY 


I. 

VOX   CLAMANTIS. 
JOHN   THE   BAPTIST. 

EPENT  !  repent !  repent ! 
JLV     For  the  kingdom  of  God  is  at  hand, 
And  all  the  land 

Full  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Lord  shall  be 
As  the  waters  cover  the  sea, 
And  encircle  the  continent ! 

Repent !  repent !  repent ! 

For  lo,  the  hour  appointed, 

The  hour  so  long  foretold 

By  the  Prophets  of  old, 

Of  the  coming  of  the  Anointed, 

The  Messiah,  the  Paraclete, 

The  Desire  of  the  Nations,  is  nigh ! 

He  shall  not  strive  nor  cry, 

Nor  his  voice  be  heard  in  the  street ; 

Nor  the  bruised  reed  shall  he  break, 

Nor  quench  the  smoking  flax  ; 

And  many  of  them  that  sleep 


io  The  Divine  Tragedy 

In  the  dust  of  earth  shall  awake, 
On  -that  great  and  terrible  day, 
And  the  wicked  shall  wail  and  weep, 
And  be  blown  like  a  smoke  away, 
And  be  melted  away  like  wax. 
Repent !  repent !  repent ! 

O  Priest,  and  Pharisee, 
Who  hath  warned  you  to  flee 
From  the  wrath  that  is  to  be  ? 
From  the  coming  anguish  and  ire  ? 
The  axe  is  laid  at  the  root 
Of  the  trees,  and  every  tree 
That  bringeth  not  forth  good  fruit 
Is  hewn  down  and  cast  into  the  fire  ! 

Ye  Scribes,  why  come  ye  hither  ? 

In  the  hour  that  is  uncertain, 

In  the  day  of  anguish  and  trouble, 

He  that  stretcheth  the  heavens  as  a  curtain 

And  spreadeth  them  out  as  a  tent, 

Shall  blow  upon  you,  and  ye  shall  wither, 

And  the  whirlwind  shall  take  you  away  as  stubble  ! 

Repent !  repent !  repent ! 

PRIEST. 

Who  art  thou,  O  man  of  prayer ! 
In  raiment  of  camel's  hair, 
Begirt  with  leathern  thong, 


Vox  Clamantis  n 

That  here  in  the  wilderness, 
With  a  cry  as  of  one  in  distress, 
Preachest  unto  this  throng  ? 
Art  thou  the  Christ  ? 

JOHN. 

Priest  of  Jerusalem, 
In  meekness  and  humbleness, 
I  deny  not,  I  confess 
I  am  not  the  Christ ! 

PRIEST. 

What  shall  we  say  unto  them 
That  sent  us  here  ?     Reveal 
Thy  name,  and  naught  conceal ! 
Art  thou  Elias  ? 

JOHN. 

No! 

PRIEST. 

Art  thou  that  Prophet,  then, 
Of  lamentation  and  woe, 
Who,  as  a  symbol  and  sign 
Of  impending  wrath  divine 
Upon  unbelieving  men, 
Shattered  the  vessel  of  clay 
In  the  Valley  of  Slaughter  ? 

JOHN. 

Nay. 

I  am  not  he  thou  namest ! 


12  The  Divine  Tragedy 

PRIEST. 

Who  art  them,  and  what  is  the  word 
That  here  thou  proclaimest  ? 

JOHN. 

I  am  the  voice  of  one 
Crying  in  the  wilderness  alone  : 
Prepare  ye  the  way  of  the  Lord  ; 
Make  his  paths  straight 
In  the  land  that  is  desolate ! 

PRIEST. 

If  thou  be  not  the  Christ, 
Nor  yet  Elias,  nor  he 
That,  in  sign  of  the  things  to  be, 
Shattered  the  vessel  of  clay 
In  the  Valley  of  Slaughter, 
Then  declare  unto  us,  and  say 
By  what  authority  now 
Baptizest  thou  ? 

JOHN. 

I  indeed  baptize  you  with  water 
Unto  repentance  ;  but  He, 
That  cometh  after  me, 
Is  mightier  than  I  and  higher ; 
The  latchet  of  whose  shoes 
I  am  not  worthy  to  unloose  ; 
He  shall  baptize  you  with  fire, 
And  with  the  Holy  Ghost ! 


Mount  Quarantania  13 

Whose  fan  is  in  his  hand  ; 
He  will  purge  to  the  uttermost 
His  floor,  and  garner  his  wheat, 
But  will  burn  the  chaff  in  the  brand 
And  fire  of  unquenchable  heat ! 
Repent !  repent !  repent ! 


II. 
MOUNT  QUARANTANIA. 


LUCIFER. 

NOT  in  the  lightning's  flash,  nor  in  the  thunder, 
Not  in  the  tempest,  nor  the  cloudy  storm, 

Will  I  array  my  form ; 
But  part  invisible  these  boughs  asunder, 
And  move  and  murmur,  as  the  wind  upheaves 

And  whispers  in  the  leaves. 

Not  as  a  terror  and  a  desolation, 

Not  in  my  natural  shape,  inspiring  fear 

And  dread,  will  I  appear ; 
But  in  soft  tones  of  sweetness  and  persuasion, 
A  sound  as  of  the  fall  of  mountain  streams, 

Or  voices  heard  in  dreams. 

He  sitteth  there  in  silence,  worn  and  wasted 
With  famine,  and  uplifts  his  hollow  eyes 
To  the  unpitying  skies  ; 


14  The  Divine  Tragedy 

For  forty  days  and  nights  he  hath  not  tasted 
Of  food  or  drink,  his  parted  lips  are  pale, 
Surely  his  strength  must  fail. 

Wherefore  dost  thou  in  penitential  fasting 
Waste  and  consume  the  beauty  of  thy  youth  ? 

Ah,  if  thou  be  in  truth 
The  Son  of  the  Unnamed,  the  Everlasting, 
Command  these  stones  beneath  thy  feet  to  be 

Changed  into  bread  for  thee  ! 

CHRISTUS. 

'T  is  written  :  Man  shall  not  live  by  bread  alone, 
But  by  each  word   that  from  God's   mouth  pro- 
ceedeth ! 

ii. 

LUCIFER. 

Too  weak,  alas  !  too  weak  is  the  temptation 
For  one  whose  soul  to  nobler  things  aspires 

Than  sensual  desires ! 
Ah,  could  I,  by  some  sudden  aberration, 
Lead  and  delude  to  suicidal  death 

This  Christ  of  Nazareth  ! 

Unto  the  holy  Temple  on  Moriah, 
With  its  resplendent  domes,  and  manifold 
Bright  pinnacles  of  gold, 


Mount  Quarantania  15 

Where  they  await  thy  coming,  O  Messiah ! 
Lo,  I  have  brought  thee  !  -   Let  thy  glory  here 
Be  manifest  and  clear. 

Reveal  thyself  by  royal  act  and  gesture, 
Descending  with  the  bright  triumphant  host 

Of  all  the  highermost 
Archangels,  and  about  thee  as  a  vesture 
The  shining  clouds,  and  all  thy  splendors  show 

Unto  the  world  below  ! 

Cast  thyself  down,  it  is  the  hour  appointed  ; 
And  God  hath  given  his  angels  charge  and  care 

To  keep  thee  and  upbear 
Upon  their  hands  his  only  Son,  the  Anointed, 
Lest  he  should  dash  his  foot  against  a  stone 

And  die,  and  be  unknown. 

CHRISTUS. 

'T  is  written :  Thou  shalt  not  tempt  the  Lord  thy 
God! 


in. 


LUCIFER. 

I  cannot  thus  delude  him  to  perdition ! 
But  one  temptation  still  remains  untried, 
The  trial  of  his  pride, 


1 6  The  Divine  Tragedy 

The  thirst  of  power,  the  fever  of  ambition  ! 
Surely  by  these  a  humble  peasant's  son 
At  last  may  be  undone  ! 

Above  the  yawning  chasms  and  deep  abysses, 
Across  the  headlong  torrents,  I  have  brought 

Thy  footsteps,  swift  as  thought ; 
And  from  the  highest  of  these  precipices, 
The  Kingdoms  of  the  world  thine  eyes  behold, 

Like  a  great  map  unrolled. 

From  far-off  Lebanon,  with  cedars  crested, 
To  where  the  waters  of  the  Asphalt  Lake 

On  its  white  pebbles  break, 
And  the  vast  desert,  silent,  sand-invested, 
These  kingdoms  all  are  mine,  and  thine  shall  be, 

If  thou  wilt  worship  me  ! 

CHRISTUS. 

Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan  !  thou  shalt  worship 
The  Lord  thy  God ;  Him  only  shalt  thou  serve  ! 

ANGELS    MINISTRANT. 

The  sun  goes  down  ;  the  evening  shadows  lengthen, 
The  fever  and  the  struggle  of  the  day 

Abate  and  pass  away  ; 

Thine  Angels  Ministrant,  we  come  to  strengthen 
And  comfort  thee,  and  crown  thee  with  the  palm, 

The  silence  and  the  calm. 


The  Marriage  in  Cana.  17 

III. 

THE  MARRIAGE  IN   CANA. 

THE   MUSICIANS. 

RISE  up,  my  love,  my  fair  one, 

Rise  up,  and  come  away, 

For  lo  !  the  winter  is  past, 

The  rain  is  over  and  gone, 

The  flowers  appear  on  the  earth, 

The  time  of  the  singing  of  birds  is  come, 

And  the  voice  of  the  turtle  is  heard  in  our  land. 

THE   BRIDEGROOM. 

Sweetly  the  minstrels  sing  the  Song  of  Songs ! 

My  heart  runs  forward  with  it,  and  I  say  : 

O  set  me  as  a  seal  upon  thine  heart, 

And  set  me  as  a  seal  upon  thine  arm ; 

For  love  is  strong  as  life,  and  strong  as  death, 

And  cruel  as  the  grave  is  jealousy  ! 

THE   MUSICIANS. 
I  sleep,  but  my  heart  awaketh  ; 
'T  is  the  voice  of  my  beloved 
Who  knocketh,  saying  :  Open  to  me, 
My  sister,  my  love,  my  dove, 
For  my  head  is  filled  with  dew, 
My  locks  with  the  drops  of  the  night ! 

THE   BRIDE. 

Ah  yes,  I  sleep,  and  yet  my  heart  awaketh, 
It  is  the  voice  of  my  beloved  who  knocks. 

2 


1 8  The  Divine  Tragedy 

THE    BRIDEGROOM. 

O  beautiful  as  Rebecca  at  the  fountain, 

O  beautiful  as  Ruth  among  the  sheaves ! 

O  fairest  among  women  !  O  undefiled  ! 

Thou  art  all  fair,  my  love,  there  's  no  spot  in  thee  ! 

THE   MUSICIANS. 

My  beloved  is  white  and  ruddy, 
The  chiefest  among  ten  thousand  ; 
His  locks  are  black  as  a  raven, 
His  eyes  are  the  eyes  of  doves, 
Of  doves  by  the  rivers  of  water, 
His  lips  are  like  unto  lilies, 
Dropping  sweet-smelling  myrrh. 

ARCHITRICLINUS. 

Who  is  that  youth,  with  the  dark  azure  eyes, 
And  hair,  in  color  like  unto  the  wine, 
Parted  upon  his  forehead,  and  behind 
Falling  in  flowing  locks  ? 

PARANYMPHUS. 

The  Nazarene 

Who  preacheth  to  the  poor  in  field  and  village 
The  coming  of  God's  Kingdom. 

ARCHITRICLINUS. 

How  serene 
His  aspect  is  !  manly  yet  womanly. 


The  Marriage  in  Cana   -  19 


PARANYMPHUS. 


Most  beautiful  among  the  sons  of  men ! 

Oft  known  to  weep,  but  never  known  to  laugh. 

ARCHITRICLINUS. 

And  tell  me,  she  with  eyes  of  olive  tint, 

And  skin  as  fair  as  wheat,  and  pale  brown  hair, 

The  woman  at  his  side  ? 

PARANYMPHUS. 

His  mother,  Mary. 

ARCHITRICLINUS. 

And  the  tall  figure  standing  close  behind  them, 
Clad  all  in  white,  with  face  and  beard  like  ashes, 
As  if  he  were  Elias,  the  White  Witness, 
Come  from  his  cave  on  Carmel  to  foretell 
The  end  of  all  things? 

PARANYMPHUS. 

That  is  Manahem 

The  Essenian,  he  who  dwells  among  the  palms 
Near  the  Dead  Sea. 

ARCHITRICLINUS. 

He  who  foretold  to  Herod 
He  should  one  day  be  King  ? 

PARANYMPHUS. 

The  same. 


2O  The  Divine  Tragedy 

ARCHITRICLINUS. 

Then  why 

Doth  he  come  here  to  sadden  with  his  presence 
Our  marriage  feast,  belonging  to  a  sect 
Haters  of  women,  and  that  taste  not  wine  ? 

THE    MUSICIANS. 

My  undefiled  is  but  one, 

The  only  one  of  her  mother, 

The  choice  of  her  that  bare  her  ; 

The  daughters  saw  her  and  blessed  her  ; 

The  queens  and  the  concubines  praised  her, 

Saying  :  Lo  !  who  is  this 

That  looketh  forth  as  the  morning  ? 

MANAHEM,  aside. 

The  Ruler  of  the  Feast  is  gazing  at  me, 
As  if  he  asked,  why  is  that  old  man  here 
Among  the  revellers  ?     And  thou,  the  Anointed  ! 
Why  art  thou  here  ?     I  see  as  in  a  vision 
A  figure  clothed  in  purple,  crowned  with  thorns ; 
I  see  a  cross  uplifted  in  the  darkness, 
And  hear  a  cry  of  agony,  that  shall  echo 
Forever  and  forever  through  the  world  ! 

ARCHITRICLINUS. 

Give  us  more  wine.    These  goblets  are  all  empty. 

MARY  to  CHRISTUS. 

They  have  no  wine  ! 


The  Marriage  in  Cana  21 

CHRISTUS. 

O  woman,  what  have  I 
To  do  with  thee  ?     Mine  hour  is  not  yet  come. 

MARY  to  the  servants. 

Whatever  he  shall  say  to  you,  that  do. 

CHRISTUS. 
Fill  up  these  pots  with  water. 

THE    MUSICIANS. 

Come,  my  beloved, 

Let  us  go  forth  into  the  field, 

Let  us  lodge  in  the  villages  ; 

Let  us  get  up  early  to  the  vineyards, 

Let  us  see  if  the  vine  flourish, 

Whether  the  tender  grape  appear, 

And  the  pomegranates  bud  forth. 

CHRISTUS. 

Draw  out  now 
And  bear  unto  the  Ruler  of  the"  Feast. 

MANAHEM,  aside. 

O  thou,  brought  up  among  the  Essenians, 
Nurtured  in  abstinence,  taste  not  the  wine  ! 
It  is  the  poison  of  dragons  from  the  vineyards 
Of  Sodom,  and  the  taste  of  death  is  in  it ! 

ARCHITRICLINUS  to  the  BRIDEGROOM. 

All  men  set  forth  good  wine  at  the  beginning ; 


22  The  Divine  Tragedy 

And  when  men  have  well  drunk,  that  which  is  worse, 
But  thou  hast  kept  the  good  wine  until  now. 

MANAHEM,  aside. 

The  things  that  have  been  and  shall  be  no  mere, 

The  things  that  are,  and  that  hereafter  shall  be, 

The  things  that  might  have  been,  and  yet  were  not, 

The  fading  twilight  of  great  joys  departed, 

The  daybreak  of  great  truths  as  yet  unrisen, 

The  intuition  and  the  expectation 

Of  something,  which,  when  come,  is  not  the  same, 

But  only  like  its  forecast  in  men's  dreams, 

The  longing,  the  delay,  and  the  delight, 

Sweeter  for  the  delay  ;  youth,  hope,  love,  death, 

And  disappointment  which  is  also  death, 

All  these  make  up  the  sum  of  human  life  ; 

A  dream  within  a  dream,  a  wind  at  night 

Howling  across  the  desert  in  despair, 

Seeking  for  something  lost,  it  cannot  find. 

Fate  or  foreseeing,  or  whatever  name 

Men  call  it,  matters  not ;  what  is  to  be 

Hath  been  fore-written  in  the  thought  divine 

From  the  beginning.     None  can  hide  from  it, 

But  it  will  find  him  out ;  nor  run  from  it, 

But  it  o'ertaketh  him  !     The  Lord  hath  said  it. 

THE   BRIDEGROOM  to  the  BRIDE,  on  the  balcony. 
When  Abraham  went  with  Sarah  into  Egypt, 
The  land  was  all  illumined  with  her  beauty ; 


In  the  Cornfields  23 

But  thou  dost  make  the  very  night  itself 
Brighter  than  day !     Behold,  in  glad  procession, 
Crowding  the  threshold  of  the  sky  above  us, 
The  stars  come  forth  to  meet  thee  with  their  lamps  ; 
And  the  soft  winds,  the  ambassadors  of  flowers, 
From  neighboring  gardens  and  from  fields  unseen, 
Come  laden  with  odors  unto  thee,  my  Queen ! 

THE    MUSICIANS. 

Awake,  O  north-wind, 

And  come,  thou  wind  of  the  South, 

Blow,  blow  upon  my  garden, 

That  the  spices  thereof  may  flow  out. 


IV. 

IN  THE  CORNFIELDS. 
PHILIP. 

ONWARD  through  leagues  of  sun-illumined  corn, 

As  if  through  parted  seas,  the  pathway  runs, 

And  crowned  with  sunshine  as  the  Prince  of  Peace 

Walks  the  beloved  Master,  leading  us, 

As  Moses  led  our  fathers  in  old  times 

Out  of  the  land  of  bondage  !     We  have  found 

Him  of  whom  Moses  and  the  Prophets  wrote, 

Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  Son  of  Joseph. 


24  The  Divine  Tragedy 

NATHANAEL. 

Can  any  good  come  out  of  Nazareth  ? 
Can  this  be  the  Messiah  ? 

PHILIP. 

Come  and  see. 

NATHANAEL. 

The  summer  sun  grows  hot ;  I  am  anhungered. 
How  cheerily  the  Sabbath-breaking  quail 
Pipes  in  the  corn,  and  bids  us  to  his  Feast 
Of  Wheat  Sheaves !    How  the  bearded,  ripening  ears 
Toss  in  the  roofless  temple  of  the  air ; 
As  if  the  unseen  hand  of  some  High-Priest 
Waved  them  before  Mount  Tabor  as  an  altar  ! 
It  were  no  harm,  if  we  should  pluck  and  eat. 

PHILIP. 

How  wonderful  it  is  to  walk  abroad 
With  the  Good  Master  !     Since  the  miracle 
He  wrought  at  Cana,  at  the  marriage  feast, 
His  fame  hath  gone  abroad  through  all*  the  land, 
And  when  we  come  to  Nazareth,  thou  shalt  see 
How  his  own  people  will  receive  their  Prophet, 
And  hail  him  as  Messiah !     See,  he  turns 
And  looks  at  thee. 

CHRISTUS. 

Behold  an  Israelite 
In  whom  there  is  no  guile. 


In  the  Cornfields  25 

NATHANAEL. 

Whence  knowest  thou  me  ? 

CHRISTUS. 

Before  that  Philip  called  thee,  when  thou  wast 
Under  the  fig-tree,  I  beheld  thee. 

NATHANAEL. 

Rabbi ! 

Thou  art  the  Son  of  God,  thou  art  the  King 
Of  Israel  ? 

CHRISTUS. 

Because  I  said  I  saw  thee 
Under  the  fig-tree,  before  Philip  called  thee, 
Believest  thou  ?    Thou  shalt  see  greater  things. 
Hereafter  thou  shalt  see  the  heavens  unclosed 
And  angels  of  God  ascending  and  descending 
Upon  the  Son  of  Man ! 

PHARISEES,  passing. 

Hail,  Rabbi ! 

CHRISTUS. 

Hail! 

PHARISEES. 

Behold  how  thy  disciples  do  a  thing 
Which  is  not  lawful  on  the  Sabbath-day, 
And  thou  forbid dest  them  not ! 


26  The  Divine  Tragedy 

CHRISTUS. 

Have  ye  not  read 

What  David  did  when  he  anhungered  was, 
And  all  they  that  were  with  him  ?    How  he  entered 
Into  the  house  of  God,  and  ate  the  shewbread, 
Which  was  not  lawful  saving  for  the  priests  ? 
Have  ye  not  read,  how  on  the  Sabbath-days 
The  priests  profane  the  Sabbath  in  the  Temple, 
And  yet  are  blameless  ?     But  I  say  to  you, 
One  in  this  place  is  greater  than  the  Temple  ! 
And  had  ye  known  the  meaning  of  the  words, 
I  will  have  mercy  and  not  sacrifice, 
The  guiltless  ye  would  not  condemn.     The  Sabbath 
Was  made  for  man,  and  not  man  for  the  Sabbath. 
Passes  on  with  the  disciples. 

PHARISEES. 

This  is,  alas  !  some  poor  demoniac 

Wandering  about  the  fields,  and  uttering 

His  unintelligible  blasphemies 

Among  the  common  people,  who  receive 

As  prophecies  the  words  they  comprehend  not ! 

Deluded  folk  !     The  incomprehensible 

Alone  excites  their  wonder.     There  is  none 

So  visionary,  or  so  void  of  sense, 

But  he  will  find  a  crowd  to  follow  him ! 


Nazareth  27 

V. 
NAZARETH. 

CHRISTUS,  reading  in  the  Synagogue. 
THE  Spirit  of  the  Lord  God  is  upon  me. 
He  hath  anointed  me  to  preach  good  tidings 
Unto  the  poor  ;  to  heal  the  broken-hearted  ; 
To  comfort  those  that  mourn,  and  to  throw  open 
The  prison  doors  of  captives,  and  proclaim 
The  Year  Acceptable  of  the  Lord,  our  God ! 

He  closes  the  book  and  sits  down. 
A   PHARISEE. 

Who  is  this  youth  ?    He  hath  taken  the  Teacher's 

seat! 
Will  he  instruct  the  Elders  ? 

A  PRIEST. 

Fifty  years 

Have  I  been  Priest  here  in  the  Synagogue, 
And  never  have  I  seen  so  young  a  man 
Sit  in  the  Teacher's  seat ! 

CHRISTUS. 

Behold,  to-day 

This  scripture  is  fulfilled.     One  is  appointed 
And  hath  been  sent  to  them  that  mourn  in  Zion, 
To  give  them  beauty  for  ashes,  and  the  oil 
Of  joy  for  mourning !     They  shall  build  again 


28  The  Divine  Tragedy 

The  old  waste-places  ;  and  again  raise  up 
The  former  desolations,  and  repair 
The  cities  that  are  wasted  !     As  a  bridegroom 
Decketh  himself  with  ornaments  j  as  a  bride 
Adorneth  herself  with  jewels,  so  the  Lord 
Hath  clothed  me  with  the  robe  of  righteousness  ! 

A  PRIEST. 

He  speaks  the  Prophet's  words ;  but  with  an  air 
As  if  himself  had  been  foreshadowed  in  them  ! 

CHRISTUS. 

For  Zion's  sake  I  will  not  hold  my  peace, 

And  for  Jerusalem's  sake  I  will  not  rest 

Until  its  righteousness  be  as  a  brightness, 

And  its  salvation  as  a  lamp  that  burneth ! 

Thou  shalt  be  called  no  longer  the  Forsaken, 

Nor  any  more  thy  land,  the  Desolate. 

The  Lord  hath  sworn,  by  his  right  hand  hath  sworn, 

And  by  his  arm  of  strength  :  I  will  no  more 

Give  to  thine  enemies  thy  corn  as  meat ; 

The  sons  of  strangers  shall  not  drink  thy  wine. 

Go  through,  go  through  the  gates !     Prepare  a  way 

Unto  the  people  !    Gather  out  the  stones  ! 

Lift  up  a  standard  for  the  people  ! 


A  PRIEST. 

Ah! 

These  are  seditious  words  ! 


Nazareth  29 

CHRISTUS. 

And  they  shall  call  them 
The  holy  people  ;  the  redeemed  of  God  ! 
And  thou,  Jerusalem,  shalt  be  called  Sought  out, 
A  city  not  forsaken  ! 

A  PHARISEE. 

Is  not  this 

The  carpenter  Joseph's  son  ?    Is  not  his  mother 
Called  Mary  ?  and  his  brethren  and  his  sisters 
Are  they  not  with  us  ?    Doth  he  make  himself 
To  be  a  Prophet  ? 

CHRISTUS. 

No  man  is  a  Prophet 
In  his  own  country,  and  among  his  kin. 
In  his  own  house  no  Prophet  is  accepted. 
I  say  to  you,  in  the  land  of  Israel 
Were  many  widows  in  Elijah's  day, 
When  for  three  years  and  more  the  heavens  were 

shut, 

And  a  great  famine  was  throughout  the  land  ; 
But  unto  no  one  was  Elijah  sent 
Save  to  Sarepta,  to  a  city  of  Sidon, 
And  to  a  woman  there  that  was  a  widow. 
And  many  lepers  were  there  in  the  land 
Of  Israel,  in  the  time  of  Eliseus 
The  Prophet,  and  yet  none  of  them  was  cleansed, 
Save  Naaman  the  Syrian! 


3O  The  Divine  Tragedy 

A  PRIEST. 

Say  no  more ! 

Thou  comest  here  into  our  Synagogue 

And  speakest  to  the  Elders  and  the  Priests, 

As  if  the  very  mantle  of  Elijah 

Had  fallen  upon  thee  !     Art  thou  not  ashamed  ? 

A   PHARISEE. 

We  want  no  Prophets  here  !     Let  him  be  driven 
From  Synagogue  and  city  !     Let  him  go 
And  prophecy  to  the  Samaritans  ! 

AN    ELDER. 

The  world  is  changed.     We  Elders  are  as  nothing ! 
We  are  but  yesterdays,  that  have  no  part 
Or  portion  in  to-day  !     Dry  leaves  that  rustle, 
That  make  a  little  sound,  and  then  are  dust ! 

A   PHARISEE. 

A  carpenter's  apprentice  !  a  mechanic, 
Whom  we  have  seen  at  work  here  in  the  town 
Day  after  day ;  a  stripling  without  learning, 
Shall  he  pretend  to. unfold  the  Word  of  God 
To  men  grown  old  in  study  of  the  Law  ? 

CHRISTUS  is  thrust  out. 


The  Sea  of  Galilee  31 

VI. 

THE   SEA  OF  GALILEE. 

PETER  and  ANDREW  mending  their  nets. 
PETER. 

NEVER  was  such  a  marvellous  draught  of  fishes 
Heard  of  in  Galilee  !     The  market-places 
Both  of  Bethsaida  and  Capernaum 
Are  full  of  them  !     Yet  we  had  toiled  all  night 
And  taken  nothing,  when  the  Master  said  : 
Launch  out  into  the  deep,  and  cast  your  nets  ; 
And  doing  this,  we  caught  such  multitudes 
Our  nets  like  spiders'  webs  were  snapped  asunder, 
And  with  the  draught  we  filled  two  ships  so  full 
That  they  began  to  sink.     Then  I  knelt  down 
Amazed,  and  said  :  O  Lord,  depart  from  me, 
I  am  a  sinful  man.     And  he  made  answer  : 
Simon,  fear  not ;  henceforth  thou  shalt  catch  men  ! 
What  was  the  meaning  of  those  words  ? 

ANDREW. 

I  know  not. 

But  here  is  Philip,  come  from  Nazareth. 

He  hath  been  with  the  Master.     Tell  us,  Philip, 

What  tidings  dost  thou  bring  ? 

PHILIP. 

Most  wonderful ! 

As  we  drew  near  to  Nain,  out  of  the  gate 


32  The  Divine  Tragedy 

Upon  a  bier  was  carried  the  dead  body 

Of  a  young  man,  his  mother's  only  son, 

And  she  a  widow,  who  with  lamentation 

Bewailed  her  loss,  and  the  much  people  with  her ; 

And  when  the  Master  saw  her  he  was  filled 

With  pity ;  and  he  said  to  her  :  Weep  not ! 

And  came  and  touched  the  bier,  and  they  that 

bare  it 

Stood  still ;  and  then  he  said  :  Young  man,  arise  ! 
And  he  that  had  been  dead  sat  up,  and  soon 
Began  to  speak  ;  and  he  delivered  him 
Unto  his  mother.     And  there  came  a  fear 
On  all  the  people,  and  they  glorified 
The  Lord,  and  said,  rejoicing  :  A  great  Prophet 
Is  risen  up  among  us  !  and  the  Lord 
Hath  visited  his  people  ! 

PETER. 

A  great  Prophet  ? 

Ay,  greater  than  a  Prophet :  greater  even 
Than  John  the  Baptist ! 

PHILIP. 

Yet  the  Nazarenes 
Rejected  him. 

PETER. 

The  Nazarenes  are  dogs ! 
As  natural  brute  beasts,  they  growl  at  things 
They  do  not  understand  ;  and  they  shall  perish, 


The  Sea  of  Galilee.  33 

Utterly  perish  in  their  own  corruption. 
The  Nazarenes  are  dogs  ! 

PHILIP. 

They  drave  him  forth 
Out  of  their  Synagogue,  out  of  their  city, 
And  would  have  cast  him  down  a  precipice, 
But,  passing  through  the  midst  of  them,  he  van 
ished 

Out  of  their  hands. 

i 

PETER. 

Wells  are  they  without  water, 
Clouds  carried  with  a  tempest,  unto  whom 
The  mist  of  darkness  is  reserved  forever  ! 

PHILIP. 

Behold  he  cometh.     There  is  one  man  with  him. 
I  am  amazed  to  see  ! 

ANDREW. 

What  man  is  that  ? 

PHILIP. 

Judas  Iscariot ;  he  that  cometh  last, 
Girt  with  a  leathern  apron.     No  one  knoweth 
His  history  ;  but  the  rumor  of  him  is 
He  had  an  unclean  spirit  in  his  youth. 
It  hath  not  left  him  yet. 
3 


34  The  Divine  Tragedy 

CHRISTUS,  passing. 

Come  unto  me, 

All  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden, 
And  I  will  give  you  rest !     Come  unto  me, 
And  take  my  yoke  upon  you  and  learn  of  me, 
For  I  am  meek,  and  I  am  lowly  in  heart, 
And  ye  shall  all  find  rest  unto  your  souls  ! 

PHILIP. 

O,  there  is  something  in  that  voice  that  reaches 

The  innermost  recesses  of  my  spirit ! 

I  feel  that  it  might  say  unto  the  blind  : 

Receive  your  sight !    and  straightway  they  would 

see! 

I  feel  that  it  might  say  unto  the  dead, 
Arise  !  and  they  would  hear  it  and  obey  ! 
Behold  he  beckons  to  us  ! 

CHRISTUS,  to  PETER  and  ANDREW. 

Follow  me ! 

PETER. 

Master,  I  will  leave  all  and  follow  thee. 


The  Demoniac  of  Gadara  35 

VII. 

THE  DEMONIAC   OF  GADARA. 
A   GADARENE. 

HE  hath  escaped,  hath  plucked  his  chains  asunder, 
And  broken  his  fetters ;  always  night  and  day 
Is  in  the  mountains  here,  and  in  the  tombs, 
Crying  aloud,  and  cutting  himself  with  stones, 
Exceeding  fierce,  so  that  no  man  can  tame  him  ! 

THE  DEMONIAC  from  above,  unseen. 
O  Aschmedai !  O  Aschmedai,  have  pity  ! 

A    GADARENE. 

Listen  !     It  is  his  voice  !     Go  warn  the  people 
Just  landing  from  the  lake  ! 

THE   DEMONIAC. 

O  Aschmedai ! 

Thou  angel  of  the  bottomless  pit,  have  pity ! 
It  was  enough  to  hurl  King  Solomon, 
On  whom  be  peace !  two  hundred  leagues  away 
Into  the  country,  and  to  make  him  scullion, 
In  the  kitchen  of  the  King  of  Maschkemen ! 
Why  dost  thou  hurl  me  here  among  these  rocks, 
And  cut  me  with  these  stones  ? 

A   GADARENE. 

He  raves  and  mutters 
He  knows  not  what. 


36  The  Divine  Tragedy 

THE  DEMONIAC,  appearing  from  a  tomb  among  the  rocks. 

The  wild  cock  Tarnegal 
Singeth  to  me,  and  bids  me  to  the  banquet, 
Where  all  the  Jews  shall  come ;  for  they  have  slain 
Behemoth  the  great  ox,  who  daily  cropped 
A  thousand  hills  for  food,  and  at  a  draught 
Drank  up  the  river  Jordan,  and  have  slain 
The  huge  Leviathan,  and  stretched  his  skin 
Upon  the  high  walls  of  Jerusalem, 
And  made  them  shine  from  one  end  of  the  world 
Unto  the  other ;  and  the  fowl  Barjuchne, 
Whose  outspread  wings  eclipse  the  sun,  and  make 
Midnight  at  noon  o'er  all  the  continents  ! 
And  we  shall  drink  the  wine  of  Paradise 
From  Adam's  cellars. 

A   GADARENE. 

O,  thou  unclean  spirit ! 

THE  DEMONIAC,  hurling  down  a  stone. 

This  i3  the  wonderful  Barjuchne's  egg, 

That  fell  out  of  her  nest,  and  broke  to  pieces, 

And  swept  away  three  hundred  cedar-trees, 

And  threescore  villages ! —  Rabbi  Eliezer, 

How  thou  didst  sin  there  in  that  seaport  town, 

When  thou  hadst  carried  safe  thy  chest  of  silver 

Over  the  seven  rivers  for  her  sake  ! 

I  too  have  sinned  beyond  the  reach  of  pardon. 

Ye  hills  and  mountains,  pray  for  mercy  on  me ! 


The  Demoniac  of  Gadara  37 

Ye  stars  and  planets,  pray  for  mercy  on  me  ! 
Ye  sun  and  moon,  O  pray  for  mercy  on  me ! 
CHRISTUS  and  his  disciples  pass. 

A   GADARENE. 

There  is  a  man  here  of  Decapolis, 
Who  hath  an  unclean  spirit ;  so  that  none 
Can  pass  this  way.     He  lives  among  the  tombs 
Up  there  upon  the  cliffs,  and  hurls  down  stones 
On  those  who  pass  beneath. 

CHRISTUS. 

Come  out  of  him, 
Thou  unclean  spirit ! 

THE   DEMONIAC. 

What  have  I  to  do 
With  thee,  thou  Son  of  God  ?     Do  not  torment  us. 

CHRISTUS. 

What  is  thy  name  ? 

DEMONIAC. 

Legion ;  for  we  are  many. 

Cain,  the  first  murderer  ;  and  the  King  Belshazzar, 
And  Evil  Merodach  of  Babylon, 
And  Admatha,  the  death-cloud,  prince  of  Persia ; 
And  Aschmedai,  the  angel  of  the  pit, 
And  many  other  devils.     We  are  Legion. 


38  The  Divine  Tragedy 

Send  us  not  forth  beyond  Decapolis  ; 
Command  us  not  to  go  into  the  deep ! 
There  is  a  herd  of  swine  here  in  the  pastures, 
Let  us  go  into  them. 

CHRISTUS. 

Come  out  of  him, 
Thou  unclean  spirit ! 

A   GADARENE. 

See,  how  stupefied, 

How  motionless  he  stands  !     He  cries  no  more  j 
He  seems  bewildered  and  in  silence  stares 
As  one  who,  walking  in  his  sleep,  awakes 
And  knows  not  where  he  is,  and  looks  about  him, 
And  at  his  nakedness,  and  is  ashamed. 

THE   DEMONIAC. 

Why  am  I  here  alone  among  the  tombs  ? 
What  have  they  done  to  me,  that  I  am  naked  ? 
Ah,  woe  is  me  ! 

CHRISTUS. 

Go  home  unto  thy  friends 

And  tell  them  how  great  things  the  Lord  hath  done 
For  thee,  and  how  he  had  compassion  on  thee ! 

A  SWINEHERD,  running. 

The  herds  !  the  herds  !  O  most  unlucky  day ! 
They  were  all  feeding  quiet  in  the  sun, 


The  Demoniac  of  Gadara  39 

When  suddenly  they  started,  and  grew  savage 
As  the  wild  boars  of  Tabor,  and  together 
Rushed  down  a  precipice  into  the  sea ! 
They  are  all  drowned ! 

PETER. 

Thus  righteously  are  punished 
The  apostate  Jews,  that  eat  the  flesh  of  swine, 
And  broth  of  such  abominable  things ! 

GREEKS   OF   GADARA. 

We  sacrifice  a  sow  unto  Demeter 

At  the  beginning  of  harvest,  and  another 

To  Dionysus  at  the  vintage-time. 

Therefore  we  prize  our  herds  of  swine,  and  count 

them 

Not  as  unclean,  but  as  things  consecrate 
To  the  immortal  gods.     O  great  magician, 
Depart  out  of  our  coasts  j  let  us  alone, 
We  are  afraid  of  thee  ! 

PETER. 

Let  us  depart ; 

For  they  that  sanctify  and  purify 
Themselves  in  gardens,  eating  flesh  of  swine, 
And  the  abomination,  and  the  mouse, 
Shall  be  consumed  together,  saith  the  Lord ! 


4O  The  Divine  Tragedy 

VIII. 

TALITHA  CUML 

JAIRUS  at  the  feet  of  CHRISTUS. 

0  MASTER  !  I  entreat  thee  !  I  implore  thee  ! 
My  daughter  lieth  at  the  point  of  death  ; 

1  pray  thee  come  and  lay  thy  hands  upon  her, 
And  she  shall  live  ! 

CHRISTUS. 
Who  was  it  touched  my  garments  ? 

SIMON    PETER. 

Thou  seest  the  multitude  that  throng  and  press 

thee, 
And  sayest   thou  :     Who   touched  me  ?      'T  was 

not  I. 

CHRISTUS. 

Some  one  hath  touched  my  garments  ;  I  perceive 
That  virtue  is  gone  out  of  me. 

A   WOMAN. 

O  Master ! 

Forgive  me  !    For  I  said  within  myself, 
If  I  so  much  as  touch  his  garment's  hem, 
I  shall  be  whole. 

CHRISTUS. 

Be  of  good  comfort,  daughter  ! 
Thy  faith  hath  made  thee  whole.    Depart  in  peace. 


Talitha  Cumi  41 

A  MESSENGER  from  the  house. 

Why  troublest  thou  the  Master  ?    Hearest  thou  not 
The  flute-players,  and  the  voices  of  the  women 
Singing  their  lamentation  ?     She  is  dead ! 

THE   MINSTRELS   AND   MOURNERS. 

We  have  girded  ourselves  with  sackcloth  ! 
We  have  covered  our  heads  with  ashes  ! 
For  our  young  men  die,  and  our  maidens 
Swoon  in  the  streets  of  the  city  ; 
And  into  their  mother's  bosom 
They  pour  out  their  souls  like  water  ! 

CHRISTUS,  going  in. 

Give  place.    Why  make  ye  this  ado,  and  weep  ? 
She  is  not  dead,  but  sleepeth. 

THE  MOTHER,  from  within. 

Cruel  Death  ! 

To  take  away  from  me  this  tender  blossom  ! 
To  take  away  my  dove,  my  lamb,  my  darling  I 

THE   MINSTRELS   AND   MOURNERS. 

He  hath  led  me  and  brought  into  darkness, 

Like  the  dead  of  old  in  dark  places  ! 

He  hath  bent  his  bow,  and  hath  set  me 

Apart  as  a  mark  for  his  arrow  ! 

He  hath  covered  himself  with  a  cloud, 

That  our  prayer  should  not  pass  through  and  reach  him  ! 


42  The  Divine  Tragedy 

THE  CROWD. 

He  stands  beside  her  bed  !     He  takes  her  hand  1 
Listen,  he  speaks  to  her  ! 

CHRISTUS,  within. 

Maiden,  arise ! 

THE    CROWD. 

See,  she  obeys  his  voice  !     She  stirs !     She  lives ! 
Her  mother  holds  her  folded  in  her  arms  ! 
O  miracle  of  miracles  !  O  marvel ! 


IX. 

THE  TOWER  OF  MAGDALA. 
MARY   MAGDALENE. 

COMPANIONLESS,  unsatisfied,  forlorn, 
I  sit  here  in  this  lonely  tower,  and  look 
Upon  the  lake  below  me,  and  the  hills 
That  swoon  with  heat,  and  see  as  in  a  vision 
All  my  past  life  unroll  itself  before  me. 
The  princes  and  the  merchants  come  to  me, 
Merchants  of  Tyre  and  Princes  of  Damascus, 
And  pass,  and  disappear,  and  are  no  more  j 
But  leave  behind  their  merchandise  and  jewels, 
Their  perfumes,  and  their  gold,  and  their  disgust. 
I  loathe  them,  and  the  very  memory  of  them 
Is  unto  me,  as  thought  of  food  to  one 


The  Tower  of  Magdala  43 

Cloyed  with  the  luscious  figs  of  Dalmanutha ! 

What  if  hereafter,  in  the  long  hereafter 

Of  endless  joy  or  pain,  or  joy  in  pain, 

It  were  my  punishment  to  be  with  them 

Grown  hideous  and  decrepit  in  their  sins, 

And  hear  them  say  :   Thou  that  hast  brought  us 

here, 
Be  unto  us  as  thou  hast  been  of  old  ! 

I  look  upon  this  raiment  that  I  wear, 

These  silks,  and  these  embroideries,  and  they  seem 

Only  as  cerements  wrapped  about  my  limbs  ! 

I  look  upon  these  rings  thick  set  with  pearls, 

And  emerald  and  amethyst  and  jasper, 

And  they  are  burning  coals  upon  my  flesh ! 

This  serpent  on  my  wrist  becomes  alive  ! 

Away,  thou  viper  !  and  away,  ye  garlands, 

Whose  odors  bring  the  swift  remembrance  back 

Of  the  unhallowed  revels  in  these  chambers  ! 

But  yesterday,  —  and  yet  it  seems  to  me 

Something  remote,  like  a  pathetic  song 

Sung  long  ago  by  minstrels  in  the  street,  — 

But  yesterday,  as  from  this  tower  I  gazed, 

Over  the  olive  and  the  walnut  trees 

Upon  the  lake  and  the  white  ships,  and  wondered 

Whither  and  whence  they  steered,  and  who  was  in 

them, 

A  fisher's  boat  drew  near  the  landing-place 
Under  the  oleanders,  and  the  people 


44  The  Divine  Tragedy 

Came  up  from  it,  and  passed  beneath  the  tower, 
Close  under  me.     In  front  of  them,  as  leader, 
Walked  one  of  royal  aspect,  clothed  in  white, 
Who  lifted  up  his  eyes,  and  looked  at  me, 
And  all  at  once  the  air  seemed  filled  and  living 
With  a  mysterious  power,  that  streamed  from  him, 
And  overflowed  me  with  an  atmosphere 
Of  light  and  love.     As  one  entranced  I  stood, 
And  when  I  woke  again,  lo  !  he  was  gone  ; 
So  that  I  said :  Perhaps  it  is  a  dream. 
But  from  that  very  hour  the  seven  demons 
That  had  their  habitation  in  this  body 
Which  men  call  beautiful,  departed  from  me ! 

This  morning,  when  the  first  gleam  of  the  dawn 

Made  Lebanon  a  glory  in  the  air, 

And  all  below  was  darkness,  I  beheld 

An  angel,  or  a  spirit  glorified, 

With  wind-tossed  garments  walking  on  the  lake. 

The  face  I  could  not  see,  but  I  distinguished 

The  attitude  and  gesture,  and  I  knew 

'T  was  he  that  healed  me.     And  the  gusty  wind 

Brought  to  mine  ears  a  voice,  which  seemed  to  say 

Be  of  good  cheer  !     'T  is  I  !     Be  not  afraid  ! 

And  from  the  darkness,  scarcely  heard,  the  answer 

If  it  be  thou,  bid  me  come  unto  thee 

Upon  the  water  !     And  the  voice  said  :  Come  ! 

And  then  I  heard  a  cry  of  fear  :  Lord,  save  me ! 

As  of  a  drowning  man.     And  then  the  voice  : 


The  House  of  Simon  the  Pharisee      45 

Why  didst  thou  doubt,  O  thou  of  little  faith ! 
At  this  all  vanished,  and  the  wind  was  hushed, 
And  the  great  sun  came  up  above  the  hills, 
And  the  swift-flying  vapors  hid  themselves 
In  caverns  among  the  rocks  !     O,  I  must  find  him 
And  follow  him,  and  be  with  him  forever ! 

Thou  box  of  alabaster,  in  whose  walls 

The  souls  of  flowers  lie  pent,  the  precious  balm 

And  spikenard  of  Arabian  farms,  the  spirits 

Of  aromatic  herbs,  ethereal  natures 

Nursed  by  the  sun  and  dew,  not  all  unworthy 

To  bathe  his  consecrated  feet,  whose  step 

Makes  every  threshold  holy  that  he  crosses  ; 

Let  us  go  forth  upon  our  pilgrimage, 

Thou  and  I  only !     Let  us  search  for  him 

Until  we  find  him,  and  pour  out  our  souls 

Before  his  feet,  till  all  that 's  left  of  us 

Shall  be  the  broken  caskets,  that  once  held  us ! 


X. 

THE  HOUSE  OF  SIMON  THE  PHARISEE. 

A   GUEST  at  table. 

ARE  ye  deceived  ?     Have  any  of  the  Rulers 
Believed  on  him  ?  or  do  they  know  indeed 
This  man  to  be  the  very  Christ  ?     Howbeit 


46  The  Divine  Tragedy 

We  know  whence  this  man  is,  but  when  the  Christ 
Shall  come,  none  knoweth  whence  he  is. 

CHRISTUS. 

Whereunto  shall  I  liken,  then,  the  men 
Of  this  generation  ?  and  what  are  they  like  ? 
They  are  like  children  sitting  in  the  markets, 
And  calling  unto  one  another,  saying  : 
We  have  piped  unto  you,  and  ye  have  not  danced  ; 
We  have  mourned  unto  you,  and  ye  have  not  wept ! 
This  say  I  unto  you,  for  John  the  Baptist 
Came  neither  eating  bread  nor  drinking  wine  ; 
Ye  say  he  hath  a  devil.     The  Son  of  Man 
Eating  and  drinking  cometh,  and  ye  say  : 
Behold  a  gluttonous  man,  and  a  wine-bibber  ; 
Behold  a  friend  of  publicans  and  sinners  ! 

A  GUEST,  aside  to  SIMON. 

Who  is  that  woman  yonder,  gliding  in 
So  silently  behind  him  ? 

SIMON. 

It  is  Mary, 
Who  dwelleth  in  the  Tower  of  Magdala. 

THE    GUEST. 

See,  how  she  kneels  there  weeping,  and  her  tears 
Fall  on  his  feet ;  and  her  long,  golden  hair 
Waves  to  and  fro  and  wipes  them  dry  again. 
And  now  she  kisses  them,  and  from  a  box 


The  House  of  Simon  the  Pharisee      47 

Of  alabaster  is  anointing  them 

With  precious  ointment,  filling  all  the  house 

With  its  sweet  odor ! 

SIMON,  aside. 

O,  this  man,  forsooth, 

Were  he  indeed  a  Prophet,  would  have  known 
Who  and  what  manner  of  woman  this  may  be 
That  toucheth  him !  would  know  she  is  a  sinner! 

CHRISTUS. 
Simon,  somewhat  have  I  to  say  to  thee. 

SIMON. 
Master,  say  on. 

CHRISTUS. 

A  certain  creditor 

Had  once  two  debtors ;  and  the  one  of  them 
Owed  him  five  hundred  pence  ;  the  other,  fifty. 
They  having  naught  to  pay  withal,  he  frankly 
Forgave  them  both.     Now  tell  me  which  of  them 
Will  love  him  most  ? 

SIMON. 

He,  I  suppose,  to  whom 
He  most  forgave. 

CHRISTUS. 

Yea,  thou  hast  rightly  judged. 
Seest  thou  this  woman  ?     When   thine  house  I 
entered, 


48  The  Divine  Tragedy 

Thou  gavest  me  no  water  for  my  feet, 

But  she  hath  washed  them  with  her  tears,  and  wiped 

them 

With  her  own  hair !     Thou  gavest  me  no  kiss ; 
This  woman  hath  not  ceased,  since  I  came  in, 
To  kiss  my  feet !     My  head  with  oil  didst  thou 
Anoint  not ;  but  this  woman  hath  anointed 
My  feet  with  ointment.     Hence  I  say  to  thee, 
Her  sins,  which  have  been  many,  are  forgiven, 
For  she  loved  much. 

THE    GUESTS. 

O,  who,  then,  is  this  man 
That  pardoneth  also  sins  without  atonement  ? 

CHRISTUS. 
Woman,  thy  faith  hath  saved  thee  !     Go  in  peace ! 


THE    DIVINE    TRAGEDY 


THE    SECOND    PASSOVER 


I. 

BEFORE  THE  GATES   OF  MACH^ERUS. 

MANAHEM. 

WELCOME,  O  wilderness,  and  welcome,  night 

And  solitude,  and  ye  swift-flying  stars 

That  drift  with  golden  sands  the  barren  heavens, 

Welcome  once  more  !     The  Angels  of  the  Wind 

Hasten  across  the  desert  to  receive  me  ; 

And  sweeter  than  men's  voices  &re  to  me 

The  voices  of  these  solitudes  ;  the  sound 

Of  unseen  rivulets,  and  the  far-off  cry 

Of  bitterns  in  the  reeds  of  water-pools. 

And  lo !  above  me,  like  the  Prophet's  arrow 

Shot  from  the  eastern  window,  high  in  air 

The  clamorous  cranes  go  singing  through  the  night. 

0  ye  mysterious  pilgrims  of  the  air, 
Would  I  had  wings  that  I  might  follow  you ! 

1  look  forth  from  these  mountains,  and  behold 
The  omnipotent  and  omnipresent  night, 

•Mysterious  as  the  future  and  the  fate 
That  hangs  o'er  all  men's  lives !     I  see  beneath  me 
The  desert  stretching  to  the  Dead  Sea  shore, 
And  westward,  faint  and  far  away,  the  glimmer 
Of  torches  on  Mount  Olivet,  announcing 


52  The  Divine  Tragedy 

The  rising  of  the  Moon  of  Passover. 

Like  a  great  cross  it  seems,  on  which  suspended, 

With  head  bowed  down  in  agony,  I  see 

A  human  figure  !     Hide,  O  merciful  heaven, 

The  awful  apparition  from  my  sight ! 

And  thou,  Machaerus,  lifting  high  and  black 
Thy  dreadful  walls  against  the  rising  moon, 
Haunted  by  demons  and  by  apparitions, 
Lilith,  and  Jezerhara,  and  Bedargon, 
How  grim  thou  showest  in  the  uncertain  light, 
A  palace  and  a  prison,  where  King  Herod 
Feasts  with  Herodias,  while  the  Baptist  John 
Fasts,  and  consumes  his  unavailing  life ! 
And  in  thy  court-yard  grows  the  untithed  rue, 
Huge  as  the  olives  of  Gethsemane, 
And  ancient  as  the  terebinth  of  Hebron, 
Coeval  with  the  world.     Would  that  its  leaves 
Medicinal  could  purge  thee  of  the  demons, 
That  now  possess  thee,  and  the  cunning  fox 
That  burrows  in  thy  walls,  contriving  mischief! 

Music  is  heard  from  within. 

Angels  of  God !     Sandalphon,  thou  that  weavest 

The  prayers  of  men  into  immortal  garlands, 

And  thou,  Metatron,  who  dost  gather  up 

Their  songs,  and  bear  them  to  the  gates  of  heaven, 

Now  gather  up  together  in  your  hands 

The  prayers  that  fill  this  prison,  and  the  songs 


Herod's  Banquet-Hall  53 

That  echo  from  the  ceiling  of  this  palace, 
And  lay  them  side  by  side  before  God's  feet ! 
He  enters  the  castle. 


II. 

HEROD'S   BANQUET-HALL. 

MAN  AHEM. 

THOU  hast  sent  for  me,  O  King,  and  I  am  here. 

HEROD. 
Who  art  thou  ? 

MANAHEM. 

Manahem,  the  Essenian. 

HEROD. 

I  recognize  thy  features,  but  what  mean 
These  torn  and  faded  garments  ?     On  thy  road 
Have  demons  crowded  thee,  and  rubbed  against 

thee, 
And  given  thee  weary  knees  ?     A  cup  of  wine  1 

MANAHEM. 

The  Essenians  drink  no  wine. 

HEROD. 

What  wilt  thou,  then  ? 

MANAHEM. 

Nothing. 


54  The  Divine  Tragedy 

HEROD. 
Not  even  a  cup  of  water  ? 

MANAHEM. 

Nothing. 
Why  hast  thou  sent  for  me  ? 

HEROD. 

Dost  thou  remember 

One  day  when  I,  a  schoolboy  in  the  streets 
Of  the  great  city,  met  thee  on  my  way 
To  school,  and  thou  didst  say  to  me  :  Hereafter 
Thou  shalt  be  King  ? 

MANAHEM. 

Yea,  I  remember  it. 

HEROD. 

Thinking  thou  didst  not  know  me,  I  replied  : 
I  am  of  humble  birth ;  whereat,  thou,  smiling, 
Didst  smite  me  with  thy  hand,  and  saidst  again  : 
Thou  shalt  be  King ;  and  let  the  friendly  blows 
That  Manahem  bath  given  thee  on  this  day 
Remind  thee  of  the  fickleness  of  fortune. 

MANAHEM. 

What  more  ? 

HEROD. 

No  more: 


Herod's  Banquet-Hall  55 

MANAHEM. 

Yea,  for  I  said  to  thee  : 
It  shall  be  well  with  thee  if  thou  love  justice 
And  clemency  towards  thy  fellow-men. 
Hast  thou  done  this,  O  King  ? 

HEROD. 

Go,  ask  my  people. 

MANAHEM. 

And  then,  foreseeing  all  thy  life,  I  added  : 
But  these  thou  wilt  forget ;  and  at  the  end 
Of  life  the  Lord  will  punish  thee. 

HEROD. 

The  end ! 

When  will  that  come  ?     For  this  I  sent  to  thee. 
How   long   shall   I   still  reign?     Thou   dost   not 

answer! 
Speak  !  shall  I  reign  ten  years  ? 

MANAHEM. 

Thou  shalt  reign  twenty, 
Nay,  thirty  years.     I  cannot  name  the  end. 

HEROD. 

Thirty  ?     I  thank  thee,  good  Essenian  ! 
This  is  my  birthday,  and  a  happier  one 
Was  never  mine.     We  hold  a  banquet  here. 
See,  yonder  are  Herodias  and  her  daughter. 


56  The  Divine  Tragedy 

MANAHEM,   aside. 

'T  is  said  that  devils  sometimes  take  the  shape 
Of  ministering  angels,  clothed  with  air, 
That  they  may  be  inhabitants  of  earth, 
And  lead  man  to  destruction.     Such  are  these. 

HEROD. 
Knowest  thou  John  the  Baptist  ? 

MANAHEM. 

Yea,  I  know  him ; 
Who  knows  him  not  ? 

HEROD. 

Know,  then,  this  John  the  Baptist 
Said  that  it  was  not  lawful  I  should  marry 
My  brother  Philip's  wife,  and  John  the  Baptist 
Is  here  in  prison.     In  my  father's  time 
Matthias  Margaloth  was  put  to  death 
For  tearing  the  golden  eagle  from  its  station 
Above  the  Temple  Gate,  —  a  slighter  crime 
Than  John  is  guilty  of.    These  things  are  warnings 
To  intermeddlers  not  to  play  with  eagles, 
Living  or  dead.     I  think  the  Essenians 
Are  wiser,  or  more  wary,  are  they  not  ? 

MANAHEM. 

The  Essenians  do  not  marry. 


Herod's  Banquet-Hall  57 

HEROD. 

Thou  hast  given 
My  words  a  meaning  foreign  to  my  thought. 

MAN  AHEM. 

Let  me  go  hence,  O  King  ! 

HEROD. 

Stay  yet  awhile, 

And  see  the  daughter  of  Herodias  dance. 
Cleopatra  of  Jerusalem,  my  mother, 
In  her  best  days,  was  not  more  beautiful. 

Music.    THE  DAUGHTER  OF  HERODIAS  dances. 

HEROD. 

O,  what  was  Miriam  dancing  with  her  timbrel, 
Compared  to  this  one  ? 

MANAHEM,  aside. 

O  thou  Angel  of  Death, 
Dancing  at  funerals  among  the  women, 
When  men  bear  out  the  dead  !     The  air  is  hot 
And  stifles  me  !     O  for  a  breath  of  air  ! 
Bid  me  depart,  O  King ! 

HEROD. 

Not  yet.     Come  hither, 
Salome,  thou  enchantress  !     Ask  of  me 
Whate'er  thou  wilt ;  and  even  unto  the  half 
Of  all  my  kingdom,  I  will  give  it  thee, 
As  the  Lord  liveth  ! 


58  The  Divine  Tragedy 

DAUGHTER   OF    HERODIAS,  kneeling. 

Give  me  here  the  head 
Of  John  the  Baptist  on  this  silver  charger  ! 

HEROD. 

Not  that,  dear  child  !     I  dare  not ;  for  the  people 
Regard  John  as  a  prophet. 

DAUGHTER   OF    HERODIAS. 

Thou  hast  sworn  it. 

HEROD. 

For  mine  oath's  sake,  then.    Send  unto  the  prison ; 
Let  him  die  quickly.     O  accursed  oath  ! 

MANAHEM. 

Bid  me  depart,  O  King  ! 

HEROD. 

Good  Manahem, 

Give  me  thy  hand.     I  love  the  Essenians. 
He  's  gone  and  hears  me  not !     The  guests  are 

dumb, 

Awaiting  the  pale  face,  the  silent  witness. 
The  lamps  flare  ;  and  the  curtains  of  the  doorways 
Wave  to  and  fro  as  if  a  ghost  were  passing  ! 
Strengthen  my  heart,  red  wine  of  Ascalon  ! 


Under  the   Walls  of  Machcerus          59 
III. 

UNDER  THE   WALLS    OF  MACH^RUS. 

MANAHEM,  rushing  out. 

AWAY  from  this  Palace  of  sin  ! 
The  demons,  the  terrible  powers 
Of  the  air,  that  haunt  its  towers 
And  hide  in  its  water-spouts, 
Deafen  me  with  the  din 
Of  their  laughter  and  their  shouts 
For  the  crimes  that  are  done  within  ! 

Sink  back  into  the  earth, 

Or  vanish  into  the  air, 

Thou  castle  of  despair ! 

Let  it  all  be  but  a  dream 

Of  the  things  of  monstrous  birth, 

Of  the  things  that  only  seem ! 

White  Angel  of  the  Moon, 

Onafiel !  be  my  guide 

Out  of  this  hateful  place 

Of  sin  and  death,  nor  hide 

In  yon  black  cloud  too  soon 

Thy  pale  and  tranquil  face  ! 

A  trumpet  is  blown  from  the  walls. 

Hark  !  hark !     It  is  the  breath 
Of  the  trump  of  doom  and  death, 
From  the  battlements  overhead 


60  The  Divine  Tragedy 

Like  a  burden  of  sorrow  cast 
On  the  midnight  and  the  blast, 
A  Availing  for  the  dead, 
That  the  gusts  drop  and  uplift ! 
O  Herod,  thy  vengeance  is  swift ! 
O  Herodias,  thou  hast  been 
The  demon,  the  evil  thing, 
That  in  place  of  Esther  the  Queen, 
In  place  of  the  lawful  bride, 
Hast  lain  at  night  by  the  side 
Of  Ahasuerus  the  king  ! 

The  trumpet  again. 

The  Prophet  of  God  is  dead ! 

At  a  drunken  monarch's  call, 

At  a  dancing-woman's  beck, 

They  have  severed  that  stubborn  neck, 

And  into  the  banquet-hall 

Are  bearing  the  ghastly  head  ! 

A  body  is  thrown  from  the  tower. 

A  torch  of  lurid  red 

Lights  the  window  with  its  glow  ; 

And  a  white  mass  as  of  snow 

Is  hurled  into  the  abyss 

Of  the  black  precipice, 

That  yawns  for  it  below ! 

O  hand  of  the  Most  High, 

O  hand  of  Adonai ! 

Bury  it,  hide  it  away 

From  the  birds  and  beasts  of  prey, 


Under  the   Walls  of  Mach&rus          6 1 

And  the  eyes  of  the  homicide, 
More  pitiless  than  they, 
As  thou  didst  bury  of  yore 
The  body  of  him  that  died 
On  the  mountain  of  Peor ! 

Even  now  I  behold  a  sign, 

A  threatening  of  wrath  divine, 

A  watery,  wandering  star, 

Through  whose  streaming  hair,  and  the  white 

Unfolding  garments  of  light, 

That  trail  behind  it  afar, 

The  constellations  shine  ! 

And  the  whiteness  and  brightness  appear 

Like  the  Angel  bearing  the  Seer 

By  the  hair  of  his  head,  in  the  might 

And  rush  of  his  vehement  flight. 

And  I  listen  until  I  hear 

From  fathomless  depths  of  the  sky 

The  voice  of  his  prophecy 

Sounding  louder  and  more  near  ! 

Malediction  !  malediction  ! 
May  the  lightnings  of  heaven  fall 
On  palace  and  prison  wall, 
And  their  desolation  be 
As  the  day  of  fear  and  affliction, 
As  the  day  of  anguish  and  ire, 
With  the  burning  and  fuel  of  fire, 
In  the  Valley  of  the  Sea ! 


62  The  Divine  Tragedy 

IV. 

NICODEMUS  AT  NIGHT. 
NICODEMUS. 

THE  streets  are  silent.     The  dark  houses  seem 
Like  sepulchres,  in  which  the  sleepers  lie 
Wrapped   in   their  shrouds,  and  for  the   moment 

dead. 

The  lamps  are  all  extinguished  ;  only  one 
Burns  steadily,  and  from  the  door  its  light 
Lies  like  a  shining  gate  across  the  street. 
He  waits  for  me.     Ah,  should  this  be  at  last 
The  long-expected  Christ !     I  see  him  there 
Sitting  alone,  deep-buried  in  his  thought, 
As  if  the  weight  of  all  the  world  were  resting 
Upon  him,  and  thus  bowed  him  down.     O  Rabbi, 
We  know  thou  art  a  Teacher  come  from  God, 
For  no  man  can  perform  the  miracles 
Thou  dost  perform,  except  the  Lord  be  with  him. 
Thou  art  a  Prophet,  sent  here  to  proclaim 
The  Kingdom  of  the  Lord.     Behold  in  me 
A  Ruler  of  the  Jews,  who  long  have  waited 
The  coming  of  that  kingdom.     Tell  me  of  it. 

CHRISTUS. 

Verily,  verily  I  say  unto  thee, 

Except  a  man  be  "born  again,  he  cannot 

Behold  the  Kingdom  of  God  ! 


Nicodemus  at  Night  63 

NICODEMUS. 

Be  born  again  ? 

How  can  a  man  be  born  when  he  is  old  ? 
Say,  can  he  enter  for  a  second  time 
Into  his  mother's  womb,  and  so  be  born  ? 

CHRISTUS. 

Verily  I  say  unto  thee,  except 
A  man  be  born  of  water  and  the  spirit, 
He  cannot  enter  into  the  Kingdom  of  God. 
For  that  which  of  the  flesh  is  born,  is  flesh ; 
And  that  which  of  the  spirit  is  born,  is  spirit. 

NICODEMUS. 

We  Israelites  from  the  Primeval  Man 
Adam  Ahelion  derive  our  bodies  ; 
Our  souls  are  breathings  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
No  more  than  this  we  know,  or  need  to  know. 

CHRISTUS. 

Then  marvel  not,  that  I  said  unto  thee 
Ye  must  be  born  again. 

NICODEMUS. 

The  mystery 
Of  birth  arid  death  we  cannot  comprehend.' 

CHRISTUS. 

The  wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth,  and  we  hear 
The  sound  thereof,  but  know  not  whence  it  cometh, 


64  The  Divine  Tragedy 

Nor  whither  it  goeth.     So  is  every  one 
Born  of  the  spirit ! 

NICODEMUS,  aside. 

How  can  these  things  be  ? 

He  seems  to  speak  of  some  vague  realm  of  shadows, 
Some  unsubstantial  kingdom  of  the  air ! 
It  is  not  this  the  Jews  are  waiting  for, 
Nor  can  this  be  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  David, 
Who  shall  deliver  us ! 

CHRISTUS. 

Art  thou  a  master 

Of  Israel,  and  knowest  not  these  things  ? 
We  speak  that  we  do  know,  and  testify 
That  we  have  seen,  and  ye  will  not  receive 
Our  witness.     If  I  tell  you  earthly  things, 
And  ye  believe  not,  how  shall  ye  believe, 
If  I  should  tell  you  of  things  heavenly  ? 
And  no  man  hath  ascended  up  to  heaven, 
But  he  alone  that  first  came  down  from  heaven, 
Even  the  Son  of  Man  which  is  in  heaven ! 

NICODEMUS,  aside. 

This  is  a  dreamer  of  dreams  ;  a  visionary, 
Whose  brain  is  overtasked,  until  he  deems 
The  unseen  world  to  be  a  thing  substantial, 
And  this  we  live  in  an  unreal  vision ! 
And  yet  his  presence  fascinates  and  fills  me 


Nicodemus  at  Night  6$ 

With  wonder,  and  I  feel  myself  exalted 
Into  a  higher  region,,  and  become 
Myself  in  part  a  dreamer  of  his  dreams, 
A  seer  of  his  visions  ! 

CHRISTUS. 

And  as  Moses 

Uplifted  the  serpent  in  the  wilderness, 
So  must  the  Son  of  Man  be  lifted  up  ; 
That  whosoever  shall  believe  in  him 
Shall  perish  not,  but  have  eternal  life. 
He  that  believes  in  him  is  not  condemned  ; 
He  that  believes  not,  is  condemned  already. 

NICODEMUS,  aside. 

He  speaketh  like  a  Prophet  of  the  Lord ! 

CHRISTUS. 

This  is  the  condemnation  ;  that  the  light 

Is  come  into  the  world,  and  men  loved  darkness 

Rather  than  light,  because  their  deeds  are  evil ! 

NICODEMUS,  aside. 

Of  me  he  speaketh !     He  reproveth  me, 
Because  I  come  by  night  to  question  him ! 

CHRISTUS. 

For  every  one  that  doeth  evil  deeds 
Hateth  the  light,  nor  cometh  to  the  light, 
Lest  he  should  be  reproved. 
5 


66  The  Divine  Tragedy 

NICODEMUS,  aside. 

Alas,  how  truly 
He  readeth  what  is  passing  in  my  heart ! 

CHRISTUS. 

But  he  that  doeth  truth  comes  to  the  light, 
So  that  his  deeds  may  be  made  manifest, 
That  they  are  wrought  in  God. 

NICODEMUS. 

Alas !  alas ! 


V. 

BLIND   BARTIMEUS. 
BARTIMEUS. 

BE  not  impatient,  Chilion ;  it  is  pleasant 
To  sit  here  in  the  shadow  of  the  walls 
Under  the  palms,  and  hear  the  hum  of  bees, 
And  rumor  of  voices  passing  to  and  fro, 
And  drowsy  bells  of  caravans  on  their  way 
To  Sidon  or  Damascus.     This  is  still 
The  City  of  Palms,  and  yet  the  walls  thou  seest 
Are  not  the  old  walls,  not  the  walls  where  Rahab 
Hid  the  two  spies,  and  let  them  down  by  cords 
Out  of  the  window,  when  the  gates  were  shut, 
And  it  was  dark.     Those  walls  were  overthrown 
When  Joshua's  army  shouted,  and  the  priests 
Blew  with  their  seven  trumpets. 


Blind  Bartimeus  67 

CHILION. 

When  was  that  ? 

BARTIMEUS. 

O,  my  sweet  rose  of  Jericho,  I  know  not. 

Hundreds  of  years  ago.     And  over  there 

Beyond  the  river,  the  great  prophet  Elijah 

Was  taken  by  a  whirlwind  up  to  heaven 

In  chariot  of  fire,  with  fiery  horses. 

That  is  the  plain  of  Moab  ;  and  beyond  it 

Rise  the  blue  summits  of  Mount  Abarim, 

Nebo  and  Pisgah  and  Peor,  where  Moses 

Died,  whom  the  Lord  knew  face  to  face,  and  whom 

He  buried  in  a  valley,  and  no  man 

Knows  of  his  sepulchre  unto  this  day. 

CHILION. 
Would  thou  couldst  see  these  places,  as  I  see  them. 

BARTIMEUS. 

I  have  not  seen  a  glimmer  of  the  light 
Since  thou  wast  born.     I  never  saw  thy  face, 
And  yet  I  seem  to  see  it ;  and  one  day 
Perhaps  shall  see  it ;  for  there  is  a  Prophet 
In  Galilee,  the  Messiah,  the  Son  of  David, 
Who  heals  the  blind,  if  I  could  only  find  him. 
I  hear  the  sound  of  many  feet  approaching 
And  voices,  like  the  murmur  of  a  crowd  ! 
What  seest  thou  ? 


68  The  Divine  Tragedy 

CHILION. 

A  young  man  clad  in  white 
Is  coming  through  the  gateway,  and  a  crowd 
Of  people  follow. 

BARTIMEUS. 

Can  it  be  the  Prophet  ? 
O  neighbors,  tell  me  who  it  is  that  passes  ! 

ONE  OF  THE   CROWD. 

Jesus  of  Nazareth. 

BARTIMEUS,  crying. 

O  Son  of  David ! 
Have  mercy  on  me ! 

MANY   OF   THE   CROWD. 

Peace,  Blind  Bartimeus ! 
Do  not  disturb  the  Master. 

BARTIMEUS,  crying  more  vehemently. 

Son  of  David, 
Have  mercy  on  me ! 

ONE   OF   THE   CROWD. 

See,  the  Master  stops. 
Be  of  good  comfort ;  rise,  he  calleth  thee  ! 

BARTIMEUS,  casting  away  his  cloak. 

Chilion  !  good  neighbors !  lead  me  on. 


Blind  Bartimeus  69 

CHRISTUS. 

What  wilt  thou 
That  I  should  do  to  thee  ? 

BARTIMEUS. 

Good  Lord  !  my  sight  — 
That  I  receive  my  sight ! 

CHRISTUS. 

Receive  thy  sight ! 
Thy  faith  hath  made  thee  whole ! 

THE  CROWD. 

He  sees  again ! 

CHRISTUS  passes  on.     The  crowd  gathers  round  BARTIMEUS. 
t  BARTIMEUS. 

I  see  again ;  but  sight  bewilders  me  ! 
Like  a  remembered  dream,  familiar  things 
Come  back  to  me.     I  see  the  tender  sky 
Above  me,  see  the  trees,  the  city  walls, 
And  the  old  gateway,  through  whose  echoing  arch 
I  groped  so  many  years ;  and  you,  my  neighbors ; 
But  know  you  by  your  friendly  voices  only. 
How  beautiful  the  world  is !  and  how  wide  ! 
O,  I  am  miles  away,  if  I  but  look! 
Where  art  thou,  Chilion  ? 

CHILION. 

Father,  I  am  here. 


/o  The  Divine  Tragedy 

BARTIMEUS. 

. 

O  let  me  gaze  upon  thy  face,  dear  child ! 

For  I  have  only  seen  thee  with  my  hands ! 

How  beautiful  thou  art !  I  should  have  known  thee 

Thou  hast  her  eyes  whom  we  shall  see  hereafter ! 

O  God  of  Abraham  !  Elion  !  Adonai ! 

Who  art  thyself  a  Father,  pardon  me 

If  for  a  moment  I  have  thee  postponed 

To  the  affections  and  the  thoughts  of  earth, 

Thee,  and  the  adoration  that  I  owe  thee, 

When  by  thy  power  alone  these  darkened  eyes 

Have  been  unsealed  again  to  see  thy  light ! 


VI. 

JACOB'S   WELL. 
A   SAMARITAN    WOMAN. 

THE  sun  is  hot ;  and  the  dry  east-wind  blowing 

Fills  all  the  air  with  dust.     The  birds  are  silent ; 

Even  the  little  fieldfares  in  the  corn 

No  longer  twitter ;  only  the  grasshoppers 

Sing  their  incessant  song  of  sun  and  summer. 

I  wonder  who  those  strangers  were  I  met 

Going  into  the  city  ?     Galileans 

They  seemed  to  me  in  speaking,  when  they  asked 

The  short  way  to  the  market-place.     Perhaps 

They  are  fishermen  from  the  lake  ;  or  travellers, 

Looking  to  find  the  inn.     And  here  is  some  one 


Jacob's   Well  71 

Sitting  beside  the  well ;  another  stranger ; 

A  Galilean  also  by  his  looks. 

What  can  so  many  Jews  be  doing  here 

Together  in  Samaria  ?     Are  they  going 

Up  to  Jerusalem  to  the  Passover  ? 

Our  Passover  is  better  here  at  Sychem, 

For  here  is  Ebal ;  here  is  Gerizim, 

The  mountain  where  our  father  Abraham 

Went  up  to  offer  Isaac  ;  here  the  tomb 

Of   Joseph,  —  for   they   brought  his   bones   from 

Egypt 
And  buried  them  in  this  land,  and  it  is  holy. 

CHRISTUS. 
Give  me  to  drink. 

SAMARITAN   WOMAN. 

How  can  it  be  that  thou, 
Being  a  Jew,  askest  to  drink  of  me 
Which  am  a  woman  of  Samaria  ? 
You  Jews  despise  us ;  have  no  dealings  with  us ; 
Make  us  a  byword ;  call  us  in  derision 
The  silly  folk  of  Sychar.     Sir,  how  is  it 
Thou  askest  drink  of  me  ? 

CHRISTUS. 

If  thou  hadst  known 

The  gift  of  God,  and  who  it  is  that  sayeth 
Give  me  to  drink,  thou  wouldst  have  asked  of  him  ; 
He  would  have  given  thee  the  living  water. 


72  The  Divine  Tragedy 

SAMARITAN   WOMAN. 

Sir,  thou  hast  naught  to  draw  with,  and  the  well 
Is  deep  !     Whence  hast  thou  living  water  ? 
Say,  art  thou  greater  than  our  father  Jacob, 
Which  gave  this  well  to  us,  and  drank  thereof 
Himself,  and  all  his  children  and  his  cattle  ? 

CHRISTUS. 

Ah,  whosoever  drinketh  of  this  water 
Shall  thirst  again  ;  but  whosoever  drinketh 
The  water  I  shall  give  him  shall  not  thirst 
Forevermore,  for  it  shall  be  within  him 
A  well  of  living  water,  springing  up 
Into  life  everlasting. 

SAMARITAN   WOMAN. 

Every  day 

I  must  go  to  and  fro,  in  heat  and  cold, 
And  I  am  weary.    •  Give  me  of  this  water, 
That  I  may  thirst  not,  nor  come  here  to  draw. 

CHRISTUS. 
Go  call  thy  husband,  woman,  and  come  hither. 

SAMARITAN   WOMAN. 

I  have  no  husband,  Sir. 

CHRISTUS. 

Thou  hast  well  said 

I  have  no  husband.    Thou  hast  had  five  husbands; 
And  he  whom  now  thou  hast  is  not  thy  husband. 


Jacob's   Well  73 

SAMARITAN   WOMAN. 

Surely  thou  art  a  Prophet,  for  thou  readest 
The  hidden  things  of  life  !    Our  fathers  worshipped 
Upon  this  mountain  Gerizim  ;  and  ye  say 
The  only  place  in  which  men  ought  to  worship 
Is  at  Jerusalem. 

CHRISTUS. 

Believe  me,  woman, 

The  hour  is  coming,  when  ye  neither  shall 
Upon  this  mount,  nor  at  Jerusalem, 
Worship  the  Father  ;  for  the  hour  is  coming, 
And  is  now  come,  when  the  true  worshippers 
Shall  worship  the  Father  in  spirit  and  in  truth  ! 
The  Father  seeketh  such  to  worship  him. 
God  is  a  spirit ;  and  they  that  worship  him 
Must  worship  him  in  spirit  and  in  truth. 

SAMARITAN   WOMAN. 

Master,  I  know  that  the  Messiah  cometh, 

Which  is  called  Christ  j  and  he  will  tell  us  all  things. 

CHRISTUS. 
I  that  speak  unto  thee  am  he  ! 

THE  DISCIPLES,  returning. 

Behold, 

The  Master  sitting  by  the  well,  and  talking 
With  a  Samaritan  woman !     With  a  woman 


74  The  Divine  Tragedy 

Of  Sychar,  the  silly  people,  always  boasting 
Of  their  Mount  Ebal,  and  Mount  Gerizim, 
Their  Everlasting  Mountain,  which  they  think 
Higher  and  holier  than  our  Mount  Moriah ! 
Why,  once  upon  the  Feast  of  the  New  Moon, 
When  our  great  Sanhedrim  of  Jerusalem 
Had  all  its  watch-fires  kindled  on  the  hills 
To  warn  the  distant  villages,  these  people 
Lighted  up  others  to  mislead  the  Jews, 
And  make  a  mockery  of  their  festival ! 
See,  she  has  left  the  Master  ;  and  is  running 
Back  to  the  city  ! 

THE   SAMARITAN   WOMAN. 

O,  come  see  a  man 

Who  hath  told  me  all  things  that  I  ever  did ! 
Say,  is  not  this  the  Christ  ? 

THE   DISCIPLES. 

Lo,  Master,  here 

Is  food,  that  we  have  brought  thee  from  the  city. 
We  pray  thee  eat  it. 


Ye  know  not  of. 


CHRISTUS. 

I  have  food  to  eat 


THE  DISCIPLES,  to  each  other. 

Hath  any  man  been  here, 
And  brought  him  aught  to  eat,  while  we  were  gone  ? 


The  Coasts  of  C<zsarea  Philippi         75 

CHRISTUS. 

The  food  I  speak  of  is  to  do  the  will 
Of  him  that  sent  me,  and  to  finish  his  work. 
Do  ye  not  say,  Lo  !  there  are  yet  four  months 
And  cometh  harvest  ?     I  say  unto  you, 
Lift  up  your  eyes,  and  look  upon  the  fields, 
For  they  are  white  already  unto  harvest ! 


VII. 
THE   COASTS   OF  C^ESAREA   PHILIPPI. 

CHRISTUS,  going  up  the  mountain. 
WHO  do  the  people  say  I  am  ? 

JOHN. 

Some  say 

That  thou  art  John  the  Baptist ;  some,  Elias ; 
And  others  Jeremiah. 

JAMES. 

Or  that  one 
Of  the  old  Prophets  is  arisen  again. 

CHRISTUS. 
But  who  say  ye  I  am  ? 

PETER. 

Thou  art  the  Christ ! 
Thou  art  the  Son  of  God ! 


76  The  Divine  Tragedy 

CHRISTUS. 

Blessed  art  thou, 

Simon  Barjona  !     Flesh  and  blood  hath  not 
Revealed  it  unto  thee,  but  even  my  Father, 
Which  is  in  Heaven.     And  I  say  unto  thee 
That  thou  art  Peter ;  and  upon  this  rock 
I  build  my  Church,  and  all  the  gates  of  Hell 
Shall  not  prevail  against  it.     But  take  heed 
Ye  tell  to  no  man  that  I  am  the  Christ. 
For  I  must  go  up  to  Jerusalem, 
And  suffer  many  things,  and  be  rejected 
Of  the  Chief  Priests,  and  of  the  Scribes  and  Elders, 
And  must  be  crucified,  and  the  third  day 
Shall  rise  again  ! 

PETER. 

Be  it  far  from  thee,  Lord  ! 
This  shall  not  be ! 

CHRISTUS. 

Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan  ! 
Thou  savorest  not  the  things  that  be  of  God, 
But  those  that  be  of  men  !     If  any  will 
Come  after  me,  let  him  deny  himself, 
And  daily  take  his  cross,  and  follow  me. 
For  whosoever  will  save  his  life  shall  lose  it, 
And  whosoever  will  lose  his  life  shall  find  it. 
For  wherein  shall  a  man  be  profited 
If  he  shall  gain  the  whole  world,  and  shall  lose 
Himself  or  be  a  castaway  ? 


The  Coasts  of  Ccesarea  Philippi         77 

JAMES,  after  a  long  pause. 

Why  doth 
The  Master  lead  us  up  into  this  mountain  ? 

PETEK. 
He  goeth  up  to  pray. 

JOHN. 

See,  where  he  standeth 
Above  us  on  the  summit  of  the  hill ! 
His  face  shines  as  the  sun!  and  all  his  raiment 
Exceeding  white  as  snow,  so  as  no  fuller 
On  earth  can  white  them  !     He  is  not  alone  ; 
There  are  two  with  him  there ;  two  men  of  eld, 
Their  white  beards  blowing  on  the  mountain  air, 
Are  talking  with  him. 

JAMES. 
I  am  sore  afraid ! 

PETER. 

Who  and  whence  are  they  ? 

JOHN. 

Moses  and  Elias  ! 

PETER. 

O  Master  !  it  is  good  for  us  to  be  here  ! 
If  thou  wilt,  let  us  make  three  tabernacles ; 
For  thee  one,  and  for  Moses  and  Elias ! 


78  The  Divine  Tragedy 

JOHN. 

Behold  a  bright  cloud  sailing  in  the  sun ! 
It  overshadows  us.     A  golden  mist 
Now  hides  them  from  us,  and  envelops  us 
And  all  the  mountain  in  a  luminous  shadow ! 
I  see  no  more.     The  nearest  rocks  are  hidden. 

VOICE  from  the  cloud. 

Lo  !  this  is  my  beloved  Son  !     Hear  him  ! 

PETER. 

It  is  the  voice  of  God.     He  speaketh  to  us, 
As  from  the  burning  bush  he  spake  to  Moses ! 

JOHN. 

The  cloud-wreaths  roll  away.     The  veil  is  lifted ; 
We  see  again.     Behold  !  he  is  alone. 
It  was  a  vision  that  our  eyes  beheld, 
And  it  hath  vanished  into  the  unseen. 

CHRISTUS,  coming  down  from  the  mountain. 
I  charge  ye,  tell  the  vision  unto  no  one, , 
Till  the  Son  of  Man  be  risen  from  the  dead ! 

PETER,  aside. 

Again  he  speaks  of  it !     What  can  it  mean, 
This  rising  from  the  dead  ? 

JAMES. 

Why  say  the  Scribes 
Elias  must  first  come  ? 


The  Coasts  of  Ccesarea  Philippi        79 

CHRISTUS. 

He  cometh  first, 

Restoring  all  things.     But  I  say  to  you, 
That  this  Elias  is  already  come. 
They  knew  him  not,  but  have  done  unto  him 
Whate'er  they  listed,  as  is  written  of  him. 

PETER,  aside. 
It  is  of  John  the  Baptist  he  is  speaking. 

JAMES. 

As  we  descend,  see,  at  the  mountain's  foot, 
A  crowd  of  people ;  coming,  going,  thronging 
Round  the  disciples,  that  we  left  behind  us, 
Seeming  impatient,  that  we  stay  so  long. 

PETER. 

It  is  some  blind  man,  or  some  paralytic 
That  waits  the  Master's  coming  to  be  healed. 

JAMES. 

I  see  a  boy,  who  struggles  and  demeans  him 
As  if  an  unclean  spirit  tormented  him ! 

A  CERTAIN  MAN,  running  forward. 

Lord !  I  beseech  thee,  look  upon  my  son. 
He  is  mine  only  child  ;  a  lunatic, 
And  sorely  vexed ;  for  oftentimes  he  falleth 
Into  the  fire  and  oft  into  the  water. 


8o  The  Divine  Tragedy 

Wherever  the  dumb  spirit  taketh  him 

He  teareth  him.     He  gnasheth  with  his  teeth, 

And  pines  away.     I  spake  to  thy  disciples 

That  they  should  cast  him  out,  and  they  could  not. 

CHRISTUS. 

O  faithless  generation  and  perverse ! 

How  long  shall  I  be  with  you,  and  suffer  you  ? 

Bring  thy  son  hither. 

BYSTANDERS. 

How  the  unclean  spirit 
Seizes  the  boy,  and  tortures  him  with  pain  ! 
He  falleth  to  the  ground  and  wallows,  foaming ! 
He  cannot  live. 

CHRISTUS. 

How  long  is  it  ago 
Since  this  came  unto  him  ? 

THE    FATHER. 

Even  of  a  child. 

O  have  compassion  on  us,  Lord,  and  help  us, 
If  thou  canst  help  us. 

CHRISTUS. 

If  thou  canst  believe ! 
For  unto  him  that  verily  believeth, 
All  things  are  possible. 


The  Coasts  of  Cczsarea  Philippi        81 

THE    FATHER. 

Lord,  I  believe  ! 
Help  thou  mine  unbelief ! 

CHRISTUS. 

Dumb  and  deaf  spirit, 

Come  out  of  him,  I  charge  thee,  and  no  more 
Enter  thou  into  him  ! 

The  boy  utters  a  loud  cry  of  fain,  and  then  lies  still. 

BYSTANDERS. 

How  motionless 

He  lieth  there.     No  life  is  left  in  him. 
His  eyes  are  like  a  blind  man's,  that  see  not. 
The  boy  is  dead  ! 

OTHERS. 

Behold  !  the  Master  stoops, 
And  takes  him  by  the  hand,  and  lifts  him  up. 
He  is  not  dead. 

DISCIPLES. 

But  one  word  from  those  lips, 
But  one  touch  of  that  hand,  and  he  is  healed  ! 
Ah,  why  could  we  not  do  it  ? 

THE   FATHER. 

My  poor  child  ! 

Now  thou  art  mine  again.     The  unclean  spirit 
Shall  never  more  torment  thee  !     Look  at  me  ! 
Speak  unto  me  !     Say  that  thou  knowest  me  ! 
6 


82  The  Divine  Tragedy 

DISCIPLES  to  CHRISTUS,  departing. 

Good  Master,  tell  us,  for  what  reason  was  it 
We  could  not  cast  him  out  ? 

CHRISTUS. 

Because  of  your  unbelief! 


VIII. 
THE  YOUNG  RULER. 

CHRISTUS. 

Two  men  went  up  into  the  temple  to  pray. 
The  one  was  a  self-righteous  Pharisee, 
The  other  a  Publican.     And  the  Pharisee 
Stood  and  prayed  thus  within  himself :  O  God, 
I  thank  thee  I  am  not  as  other  men, 
Extortioners,  unjust,  adulterers, 
Or  even  as  this  Publican.     I  fast 
Twice  in  the  week,  and  also  I  give  tithes 
Of  all  that  I  possess  !     The  Publican, 
Standing  afar  off,  would  not  lift  so  much 
Even  as  his  eyes  to  heaven,  but  smote  his  breast, 
Saying  :  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner ! 
I  tell  you  that  this  man  went  to  his  house 
More  justified  than  the  other.     Every  one 
That  doth  exalt  himself  shall  be  abased, 
And  he  that  humbleth  himself  shall  be  exalted ! 


The   Young  Ruler  83 

CHILDREN,  among  themselves. 

Let  us  go  nearer !     He  is  telling  stories ! 
Let  us  go  listen  to  them. 

AN    OLD   JEW. 

Children,  children ! 

What  are  ye  doing  here  ?     Why  do  ye  crowd  us  ? 
It  was  such  little  vagabonds  as  you, 
That  followed  Elisha,  mocking  him  and  crying : 
Go  up,  thou  bald-head !     But  the  bears  —  the  bears 
Came  out  of  the  wood,  and  tare  them ! 

A   MOTHER. 

Speak  not  thus  ! 

We  brought  them  here,  that  he  might  lay  his  hands 
On  them,  and  bless  them. 

CHRISTUS. 

Suffer  little  children 

To  come  unto  me,  and  forbid  them  not  j 
Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  and  their  angels 
Look  always  on  my  Father's  face. 

Takes  them  in  his  arms  and  blesses  them. 

A  YOUNG   RULER,    running. 

Good  Master ! 

What  good  thing  shall  I  do,  that  I  may  have 
Eternal  life  ? 

CHRISTUS. 

Why  callest  thou  me  good  ? 
There  is  none  good  but  one,  and  that  is  God. 


84  The  Divine  Tragedy 

If  thou  wilt  enter  into  life  eternal, 
Keep  the  commandments. 

YOUNG   RULER. 

Which  of  them  ? 

CHRISTUS. 

Thou  shalt  not 

Commit  adultery  ;  thou  shalt  not  kill ; 
Thou  shalt  not  steal ;  thou  shalt  not  bear  false 

witness  ; 

Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother  ;  and  love 
Thy  neighbor  as  thyself. 

YOUNG   RULER. 

From  my  youth  up 
All  these  things  have  I  kept.     What  lack  I  yet  ? 

JOHN. 

With  what  divine  compassion  in  his  eyes 
The  Master  looks  upon  this  eager  youth, 
As  if  he  loved  him ! 

CHRISTUS. 

Wouldst  thou  perfect  be, 
Sell  all  thou  hast,  and  give  it  to  the  poor, 
And  come,  take  up  thy  cross,  and  follow  me, 
And  thou  shalt  have  thy  treasure  in  the  heavens. 

JOHN. 
Behold,  how  sorrowful  he  turns  away ! 


At  Bethany  85 

CHRISTUS. 

Children !  how  hard  it  is  for  them  that  trust 
In  riches  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God  ! 
'T  is  easier  for  a  camel  to  go  through 
A  needle's  eye,  than  for  the  rich  to  enter 
The  kingdom  of  God ! 

JOHN. 

Ah,  who  then  can  be  saved  ? 

CHRISTUS. 

With  men  this  is  indeed  impossible, 
But  unto  God  all  things  are  possible  ! 

PETER. 

Behold,  we  have  left  all,  and  followed  thee. 
What  shall  we  have  therefor  ? 

CHRISTUS. 

Eternal  life. 


IX. 

AT  BETHANY. 

MARTHA  busy  about  household  affairs.     MARY  sitting  at  the 
feet  of  CHRISTUS. 

MARTHA. 

SHE  sitteth  idly  at  the  Master's  feet, 

And  troubles  not  herself  with  household  cares. 

'T  is  the  old  story.     When  a  guest  arrives 


86  The  Divine  Tragedy 

She  gives  up  all  to  be  with  him ;  while  I 

Must  be  the  drudge,  make  ready  the  guest-chamber, 

Prepare  the  food,  set  everything  in  order, 

And  see  that  naught  is  wanting  in  the  house. 

She  shows  her  love  by  words,  and  I  by  works. 

MARY. 

0  Master  !  when  thou  comest,  it  is  always 
A  Sabbath  in  the  house.     I  cannot  work  j 

1  must  sit  at  thy  feet ;  must  see  thee,  hear  thee  ! 
I  have  a  feeble,  wayward,  doubting  heart, 
Incapable  of  endurance  or  great  thoughts, 
Striving  for  something  that  it  cannot  reach, 
Baffled  and  disappointed,  wounded,  hungry ; 
And  only  when  I  hear  thee  am  I  happy, 

And  only  when  I  see  thee  am  at  peace ! 

Stronger  than  I,  and  wiser,  and  far  better 

In  every  manner,  is  my  sister  Martha. 

You  see  how  well  she  orders  everything 

To  make  thee  welcome  ;  how  she  comes  and  goes, 

Careful  and  cumbered  ever  with  much  serving, 

While  I  but -welcome  thee  with  foolish  words  ! 

Whene'er  thou  speakest  to  me,  I  am  happy ; 

When  thou  art  silent,  I  am  satisfied. 

Thy  presence  is  enough.     I  ask  no  more. 

Only  to  be  with  thee,  only  to  see  thee, 

Sufficeth  me.     My  heart  is  then  at  rest. 

I  wonder  I  am  worthy  of  so  much. 


Born  Blind  87 

MARTHA. 

Lord,  dost  thou  care  not  that  my  sister  Mary 
Hath  left  me  thus  to  wait  on  thee  alone  ? 
I  pray  thee,  bid  her  help  me. 

* 

CHRISTUS. 

Martha,  Martha, 

Careful  and  troubled  about  many  things 
Art  thou,  and'  yet  one  thing  alone  is  needful ! 
Thy  sister  Mary  hath  chosen  that  good  part, 
Which  never  shall  be  taken  away  from  her ! 


X. 

BORN  BLIND. 

A   JEW. 

WHO  is  this  beggar  blinking  in  the  sun  ? 
Is  it  not  he  who  used  to  sit  and  beg 
By  the  Gate  Beautiful  ? 

ANOTHER. 

It  is  the  same. 

A   THIRD. 

It  is  not  he,  but  like  him,  for  that  beggar 
Was  blind  from  birth.     It  cannot  be  the  same. 


88  The  Divine  Tragedy 

THE   BEGGAR. 

Yea,  I  am  he. 

A  JEW. 

How  have  thine  eyes  been  opened  ? 

THE   BEGGAR. 

A  man  that  is  called  Jesus  made  a  clay 
And  put  it  on  mine  eyes,  and  said  to  me  : 
Go  to  Siloam's  Pool  and  wash  thyself. 
I  went  and  washed,  and  I  received  my  sight. 

A  JEW. 
Where  is  he  ? 

THE   BEGGAR. 

I  know  not. 

PHARISEES. 

What  is  this  crowd 
Gathered  about  a  beggar  ?    What  has  happened  ? 

A  JEW. 

Here  is  a  man  who  hath  been  blind  from  birth, 
And  now  he  sees.  He  says  a  man  called  Jesus 
Hath  healed  him. 

PHARISEES. 

As  God  liveth,  the  Nazarene  I 
How  was  this  done  ? 


Born  Blind  89 

THE    BEGGAR. 

Rabboni,  he  put  clay 
Upon  mine  eyes ;  I  washed,  and  now  I  see. 

PHARISEES. 

When  did  he  this  ? 

THE   BEGGAR. 

Rabboni,  yesterday. 

PHARISEES. 

The  Sabbath-day.     This  man  is  not  of  God 
Because  he  keepeth  not  the  Sabbath-day ! 

A   JEW. 

How  can  a  man  that  is  a  sinner  do 
Such  miracles  ? 

PHARISEES. 

What  dost  thou  say  of  him 
That  hath  restored  thy  sight  ? 

THE   BEGGAR. 

He  is  a  Prophet. 
A  JEW. 

This  is  a  wonderful  story,  but  not  true. 

A  beggar's  fiction.     He  was  not  born  blind, 

And  never  has  been  blind  1 


90  The  Divine  Tragedy 

OTHERS. 

. 

Here  are  his  parents. 
Ask  them. 

PHARISEES. 

Is  this  your  son  ? 

THE    PARENTS. 

Rabboni,  yea ; 
We  know  this  is  our  son. 

PHARISEES. 

Was  he  born  blind  ? 

THE    PARENTS. 

He  was  born  blind. 

PHARISEES. 

Then  how  doth  he  now  see  ? 

THE   PARENTS,  aside. 

What  answer  shall  we  make  ?     If  we  confess 
It  was  the  Christ,  we  shall  be  driven  forth 
Out  of  the  Synagogue  !     We  know,  Rabboni, 
This  is  our  son,  and  that  he  was  born  blind ; 
But  by  what  means  he  seeth,  we  know  not, 
Or  who  his  eyes  hath  opened,  we  know  not. 
He  is  of  age  ;  ask  him  ;  we  cannot  say ; 
He  shall  speak  for  himself. 


Born  Blind  91 

PHARISEES. 

Give  God  the  praise! 
We  know  the  man  that  healed  thee  is  a  sinner ! 

THE   BEGGAR. 

Whether  he  be  a  sinner,  I  know  not ; 

One  thing  I  know ;  that  whereas  I  was  blind, 

I  now  do  see. 

PHARISEES. 

How  opened  he  thine  eyes  ? 
What  did  he  do  ? 

THE   BEGGAR. 

I  have  already  told  you. 
Ye  did  not  hear  ;  why  would  ye  hear  again  ? 
Will  ye  be  his  disciples  ? 

PHARISEES. 

God  of  Moses ! 

Are  we  demoniacs,  are  we  halt  or  blind, 
Or  palsy-stricken,  or  lepers,  or  the  like, 
That  we  should  join  the  Synagogue  of  Satan, 
And  follow  jugglers  ?     Thou  art  his  disciple, 
But  we  are  disciples  of  Moses  ;  and  we  know 
That  God  spake  unto  Moses  ;  but  this  fellow, 
We  know  not  whence  he  is ! 

THE    BEGGAR. 

Why,  herein  is 
A  marvellous  thing !    Ye  know  not  whence  he  is, 


92  The  Divine  Tragedy 

Yet  he  hath  opened  mine  eyes !    We  know  that 

God 

Heareth  not  sinners  ;  but  if  any  man 
Doeth  God's  will,  and  is  his  worshipper, 
Him  doth  he  hear.     O,  since  the  world  began 
It  was  not  heard  that  any  man  hath  opened 
The  eyes  of  one  that  was  born  blind.     If  he 
Were  not  of  God,  surely  he  could  do  nothing ! 

PHARISEES. 

Thou,  who  wast  altogether  born  in  sins 
And  in  iniquities,  dost  thou  teach  us  ? 
Away  with  thee  out  of  the  holy  places, 
Thou  reprobate,  thou  beggar,  thou  blasphemer ! 
THE  BEGGAR  is  cast  out. 


XL 

SIMON  MAGUS  AND   HELEN  OF  TYRE. 

On  the  house-top  at  Endor.     Night.    A  lighted  lantern  on  a 
table. 

SIMON. 

SWIFT  are  the  blessed  Immortals  to  the  mortal 
That  perseveres  !     So  doth  it  stand  recorded 
In  the  divine  Chaldaean  Oracles 
Of  Zoroaster,  once  Ezekiel's  slave, 
Who  in  his  native  East  betook  himself 


Simon  Magus  and  Helen  of  Tyre       93 

To  lonely  meditation,  and  the  writing 

On  the  dried  skins  of  oxen  the  Twelve  Books 

Of  the  Avesta  and  the  Oracles  ! 

Therefore  I  persevere  ;  and  I  have  brought  thee 

From  the  great  city  of  Tyre,  where  men  deride 

The  things  they  comprehend  not,  to  this  plain 

Of  Esdraelon,  in  the  Hebrew  tongue 

Called  Armageddon,  and  this  town  of  Endor, 

Where  men  believe ;  where  all  the  air  is  full 

Of  marvellous  traditions,  and  the  Enchantress 

That  summoned  up  the  ghost  of  Samuel, 

Is  still  remembered.     Thou  hast  seen  the  land  j 

Is  it  not  fair  to  look  on  ? 

HELEN. 

It  is  fair, 
Yet  not  so  fair  as  Tyre. 

SIMON. 

Is  not  Mount  Tabor 
As  beautiful  as  Carmel  by  the  Sea  ? 

HELEN. 

It  is  too  silent  and  too  solitary  j 

I  miss  the  tumult  of  the  streets  ;  the  sounds 

Of  traffic,  and  the  going  to  and  fro 

Of  people  in  gay  attire,  with  cloaks  of  purple, 

And  gold  and  silver  jewelry  ! 


94  The  Divine  Tragedy 

SIMON. 

Inventions 

Of  Ahriman,  the  spirit  of  the  dark, 
The  Evil  Spirit ! 

HELEN. 

I  regret  the  gossip 

Of  friends  and  neighbors  at  the  open  door 
On  summer  nights. 

SIMON. 

An  idle  waste  of  time. 

HELEN. 

The  singing  and  the  dancing,  the  delight 
Of  music  and  of  motion.     Woe  is  me, 
To  give  up  all  these  pleasures,  and  to  lead 
The  life  we  lead  ! 

SIMON. 

Thou  canst  not  raise  thyself 
Up  to  the  level  of  my  higher  thought, 
And  though  possessing  thee,  I  still  remain 
Apart  from  thee,  and  with  thee,  am  alone 
In  my  high  dreams. 

HELEN. 

Happier  was  I  in  Tyre. 
O,  I  remember  how  the  gallant  ships 
Came  sailing  in,  with  ivory,  gold  and  silver, 
And  apes  and  peacocks  ;  and  the  singing  sailors 
And  the  gay  captains  with  their  silken  dresses, 
Smelling  of  aloes,  myrrh,  and  cinnamon  ! 


Simon  Magus  and  Helen  of  Tyre       95 


SIMON. 


But  the  dishonor,  Helen  !     Let  the  ships 
Of  Tarshish  howl  for  that ! 


HELEN. 

And  what  dishonor  ? 
Remember  Rahab,  and  how  she  became 
The  ancestress  of  the  great  Psalmist  David ; 
And  wherefore  should  not  I,  Helen  of  Tyre, 
Attain  like  honor  ? 


SIMON. 

Thou  art  Helen  of  Tyre, 
And  hast  been   Helen   of  Troy,  and  hast  been 

Rahab, 

The  Queen  of  Sheba,  and  Semiramis, 
And  Sara  of  seven  husbands,  and  Jezebel, 
And  other  women  of  the  like  allurements  ; 
And  now  thou  art  Minerva,  the  first  y£on, 
The  Mother  of  Angels  ! 

HELEN. 

And  the  concubine 
Of  Simon  the  Magician  !     Is  it  honor 
For  one  who  has  been  all  these  noble  dames, 
To  tramp  about  the  dirty  villages 
And  cities  of  Samaria  with  a  juggler  ? 
A  charmer  of  serpents  ? 


96  The  Divine  Tragedy 

SIMON. 

He  who  knows  himself 

Knows  all  things  in  himself.    I  have 'charmed  thee, 
Thou  beautiful  asp  ;  yet  am  I  no  magician. 
I  am  the  Power  of  God,  and  the  Beauty  of  God  ! 
I  am  the  Paraclete,  the  Comforter  ! 

HELEN. 

Illusions  !     Thou  deceiver,  self-deceived  ! 
Thou  dost  usurp  the  titles  of  another ; 
Thou  art  not  what  thou  sayest. 


SIMON. 

Am  I  not  ? 


Then  feel  my  power. 


HELEN. 

Would  I  had  ne'er  left  Tyre  ! 
He  looks  at  her,  and  she  sinks  into  a  deep  sleep. 

SIMON. 

Go,  see  it  in  thy  dreams,  fair  unbeliever ! 
And  leave  me  unto  mine,  if  they  be  dreams, 
That  take  such  shapes  before  me,  that  I  see  them  ; 
These  effable  and  ineffable  impressions 
Of  the  mysterious  world,  that  come  to  me 
From  the  elements  of  Fire  and  Earth  and  Water, 
And  the  all-nourishing  Ether  !     It  is  written, 
Look  not  on  Nature,  for  her  name  is  fatal ! 
Yet  there  are  Principles,  that  make  apparent 


Simon  Magus  and  Helen  of  Tyre       97 

The  images  of  unapparent  things, 
And  the  impression  of  vague  characters 
And  visions  most  divine  appear  in  ether. 
So  speak  the  Oracles  ;  then,  wherefore  fatal  ? 
I  take  this  orange-bough,  with  its  five  leaves, 
Each  equidistant  on  the  upright  stem  ; 
And  I  project  them  on  a  plane  below, 
In  the  circumference  of  a  circle  drawn 
About  a  centre  where  the  stem  is  planted, 
And  each  still  equidistant  from  the  other ; 
As  if  a  thread  of  gossamer  were  drawn 
Down  from  each  leaf,  and  fastened  with  a  pin. 
Now  if  from  these  five  points  a  line  be  traced 
To  each  alternate  point,  we  shall  obtain 
The  Pentagram,  or  Solomon's  Pentangle, 
A  charm  against  all  witchcraft,  and  a  sign, 
Which  on  the  banner  of  Antipchus 
Drove  back  the  fierce  barbarians  of  the  North, 
Demons  esteemed,  and  gave  the  Syrian  King 
The  sacred  name  of  Soter,  or  of  Savior. 
Thus  Nature  works  mysteriously  with  man  ; 
And  from  the  Eternal  One,  as  from  a  centre, 
All  things  proceed,  in  fire,  air,  earth,  and  water, 
And  all  are  subject  to  one  law,  which  broken 
Even  in  a  single  point,  is  broken  in  all ; 
Demons  rush  in,  and  chaos  comes  again. 

By  this  will  I  compel  the  stubborn  spirits, 
That  guard  the  treasures,  hid  in  caverns  deep 
7 


98  The  Divine  Tragedy 

On  Gerizim,  by  Uzzi  the  High-Priest, 
The  ark  and  holy  vessels,  to  reveal 
Their  secret  unto  me,  and  to  restore 
These  precious  things  to  the  Samaritans. 

A  mist  is  rising  from  the  plain  below  me, 
And  as  I  look,  the  vapors  shape  themselves 
Into  strange  figures,  as  if  unawares 
My  lips  had  breathed  the  Tetragrammaton, 
And  from  their  graves,  o'er  all  the  battle-fields 
Of  Armageddon,  the  long-buried  captains 
Had  started,  with  their  thousands,  and  ten  thou 
sands, 

And  rushed  together  to  renew  their  wars, 
Powerless,  and  weaponless,  and  without  a  sound  ! 
Wake,  Helen,  from  thy  sleep  !    The  air  grows  cold  ; 
Let  us  go  down. 

HELEN,  awaking. 

O  would  I  were  at  home ! 

SIMON. 

Thou  sayest  that  I  usurp  another's  titles. 

In  youth  I  saw  the  Wise  Men  of  the  East, 

Magalath  and  Pangalath,  and  Saracen, 

Who  followed  the  bright  star,  but  home  returned 

For  fear  of  Herod  by  another  way. 

O  shining  worlds  above  me  !  in  what  deep 

Recesses  of  your  realms  of  mystery 


Simon  Magus  and  Helen  of  Tyre      99 

Lies  hidden  now  that  star  ?  and  where  are  they 
That  brought  the  gifts  of  frankincense  and  myrrh  ? 


HELEN. 
The  Nazarene  still  liveth. 

SIMON. 

We  have  heard 

His  name  in  many  towns,  but  have  not  seen  him. 
He  flits  before  us  ;  tarries  not ;  is  gone 
When  we  approach,  like  something  unsubstantial, 
Made  of  the  air,  and  fading  into  air. 
He  is  at  Nazareth,  he  is  at  Nain, 
Or  at  the  Lovely  Village  on  the  Lake, 
Or  sailing  on  its  waters. 

HELEN. 

So  say  those 
Who  do  not  wish  to  find  .him. 

SIMON. 

Can  this  be 

The   King  of   Israel,  whom  the  Wise   Men  wor 
shipped  ? 

Or  does  he  fear  to  meet  me  ?     It  would  seem  so. 
We  should  soon  learn  which  of  us  twain  usurps 
The  titles  of  the  other,  as  thou  sayest. 

They  go  down. 


THE    DIVINE    TRAGEDY 


THE   THIRD    PASSOVER 


I. 


THE   ENTRY   INTO  JERUSALEM. 

THE  SYRO-PHCENICIAN  WOMAN  and  her  DAUGHTER  on  the 
house-top  at  Jerusalem. 

THE   DAUGHTER,  singing. 

BLIND  Bartimeus  at  the  gates 
Of  Jericho  in  darkness  waits  ; 
He  hears  the  crowd  ;  —  he  hears  a  breath 
Say  :  It  is  Christ  of  Nazareth  ! 
And  calls,  in  tones  of  agony, 


The  thronging  multitudes  increase  ; 
Blind  Bartimeus,  hold  thy  peace  ! 
But  still,  above  the  noisy  crowd, 
The  beggar's  cry  is  shrill  and  loud  ; 
Until  they  say  :  He  calleth  thee  ! 
eyeipai,  (pwel  are  ! 


Then  saith  the  Christ,  as  silent  stands 
The  crowd  :  What  wilt  thou  at  my  hands  ? 
And  he  replies  :  O,  give  me  light  ! 
Rabbi,  restore  the  blind  man's  sight  ! 
And  Jesus  answers,  "YTrcrye  • 
*H  irioTis  (rou  creVcuKe  (re  / 

Ye  that  have  eyes,  yet  cannot  see, 
In  darkness  and  in  misery, 


IO4  The  Divine  Tragedy 

Recall  those  mighty  voices  Three, 


©apcret,  eyetpat, 

*H  TnOTty  O-QV  (r€(TQ)Ke  (76  / 


THE    MOTHER. 

Thy  faith  hath  saved  thee  !     Ah,  how  true  that  is  ! 
For  I  had  faith ;  and  when  the  Master  came 
Into  the  coasts  of  Tyre  and  Sidon,  fleeing 
From  those  who  sought  to  slay  him,  I  went  forth 
And  cried  unto  him,  saying  :  Have  mercy  on  me, 

0  Lord,  thou  Son  of  David  !  for  my  daughter 
Is  grievously  tormented  with  a  devil. 

But  he  passed  on,  and  answered  not  a  word. 
And  his  disciples  said,  beseeching  him : 
Send  her  away !     She  crieth  after  us  ! 
And  then  the  Master  answered  them  and  said  : 

1  am  not  sent  but  unto  the  lost  sheep 

Of  the   House   of  Israel  !      Then   I   worshipped 

him, 

Saying  :  Lord,  help  me  !     And  he  answered  me, 
It  is  not  meet  to  take  the  children's  bread 
And  cast  it  unto  dogs  !     Truth,  Lord,  I  said  ; 
And  yet  the  dogs  may 'eat  the  crumbs  which  fall 
From  off  their  master's  table  ;  and  he  turned, 
And  answered  me ;  and  said  to  me  :  O  woman, 
Great  is  thy  faith  ;  then  be  it  unto  thee, 
Even  as  thou  wilt.     And  from  that  very  hour 
Thou  wast  made  whole,  my  darling !  my  delight ! 


The  Entry  into  Jerusalem  105 

THE   DAUGHTER. 

There  came  upon  my  dark  and  troubled  mind 
A  calm,  as  when  the  tumult  of  the  city 
Suddenly  ceases,  and  I  lie  and  hear 
The  silver  trumpets  of  the  Temple  blowing 
Their  welcome  to  the  Sabbath.     Still  I  wonder, 
That  one  who  was  so  far  away  from  me, 
And  could  not  see  me,  by  his  thought  alone 
Had  power  to  heal  me.     O  that  I  could  see  him  ! 

THE    MOTHER. 

Perhaps  thou  wilt ;  for  I  have  brought  thee  here 
To  keep  the  holy  Passover,  and  lay 
Thine  offering  of  thanksgiving  on  the  altar. 
Thou  mayst  both  see  and  hear  him.     Hark ! 

VOICES  afar  off. 

Hosanna ! 

THE   DAUGHTER. 

A  crowd  comes  pouring  through  the  city  gate  ! 
O  mother,  look ! 

VOICES  in  the  street. 

Hosanna  to  the  Son 
Of  David ! 

THE    DAUGHTER. 

A  great  multitude  of  people 
Fills  all  the  street ;  and  riding  on  an  ass 
Comes  one  of  noble  aspect,  like  a  king  ! 


io6  The  Divine  Tragedy 

The  people  spread  their  garments  in  the  way, 
And  scatter  branches  of  the  palm-trees ! 

VOICES. 

Blessed 

Is  he  that  cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord ! 
Hosanna  in  the  highest ! 

OTHER   VOICES. 

Who  is  this  ? 

VOICES. 

Jesus  of  Nazareth ! 

THE   DAUGHTER. 

Mother,  it  is  he  ! 

VOICES. 

He  hath  called  Lazarus  of  Bethany 

Out  of  his  grave,  and  raised  him  from  the  dead  ! 

Hosanna  in  the  highest ! 

PHARISEES. 

Ye  perceive 

That  nothing  we  prevail.     Behold,  the  world 
Is  all  gone  after  him  ! 

THE   DAUGHTER. 

What  majesty, 

What  power  is  in  that  care-worn  countenance  ! 
What  sweetness,  what  compassion !     I  no  longer 
Wonder  that  he  hath  healed  me ! 


Solomons  Porch  107 

VOICES. 

Peace  in  heaven, 

And  glory  in  the  highest ! 

PHARISEES. 

Rabbi!  Rabbi! 
Rebuke  thy  followers ! 

CHRISTUS. 

Should  they  hold  their  peace 
The  very  stones  beneath  us  would  cry  out ! 

THE   DAUGHTER. 

All  hath  passed  by  me  like  a  dream  of  wonder ! 
But  I  have  seen  him,  and  have  heard  his  voice, 
And  I  am  satisfied  I  I  ask  no  more  ! 


II. 

SOLOMON'S    PORCH. 
GAMALIEL   THE    SCRIBE. 

WHEN  Rabban  Simeon,  upon  whom  be  peace ! 
Taught  in  these  Schools,  he  boasted  that  his  pen 
Had  written  no  word  that  he  could  call  his  own, 
But  wholly  and  always  had  been  consecrated 
To  the  transcribing  of  the  Law  and  Prophets. 
He  used  to  say,  and  never  tired  of  saying, 
The  world  itself  was  built  upon  the  Law. 


io8  The  Divine  Tragedy 

And  ancient  Hillel  said,  that  whosoever 

Gains  a  good  name,  gains  something  for  himself, 

But  he  who  gains  a  knowledge  of  the  Law 

Gains  everlasting  life.     And  they  spake  truly. 

Great  is  the  Written  Law  ;  but  greater  still 

The  Unwritten,  the  Traditions  of  the  Elders, 

The  lovely  words  of  Levites,  spoken  first 

To  Moses  on  the  Mount,  and  handed  down 

From  mouth  to  mouth,  in  one  unbroken  sound 

And  sequence  of  divine  authority, 

The  voice  of  God  resounding  through  the  ages. 

The  Written  Law  is  water  ;  the  Unwritten 
Is  precious  wine  ;  the  Written  Law  is  salt, 
The  Unwritten  costly  spice  ;  the  Written  Law 
Is  but  the  body  ;  the  Unwritten,  the  soul 
That  quickens  it,  and  makes  it  breathe  and  live. 

I  can  remember,  many  years  ago, 

A  little  bright-eyed  school-boy,  a  mere  stripling, 

Son  of  a  Galilean  carpenter, 

From  Nazareth,  I  think,  who  came  one  day 

And  sat  here  in  the  Temple  with  the  Scribes, 

Hearing  us  speak,  and  asking  many  questions, 

And  we  were  all  astonished  at  his  quickness. 

And  when  his  mother  came,  and  said  :  Behold 

Thy  father  and  I  have  sought  thee,  sorrowing ; 

He  looked  as  one  astonished,  and  made  answer ! 

How  is  it  that  ye  sought  me  ?     Wist  ye  not 


Solomons  Porch  109 

That  I  must  be  about  my  Father's  business  ? 

Often  since  then  I  see  him  here  among  us, 

Or  dream  I  see  him,  with  his  upraised  face 

Intent  and  eager,  and  I  often  wonder 

Unto  what  manner  of  manhood  he  hath  grown  ! 

Perhaps  a  poor  mechanic,  like  his  father, 

Lost  in  his  little  Galilean  village 

And  toiling  at  his  craft,  to  die  unknown 

And  be  no  more  remembered  among  men. 

CHRISTUS  in  the  outer  court. 
The  Scribes  and  Pharisees  sit  in  Moses'  seat; 
All,  therefore,  whatsoever  they  command  you, 
Observe  and  do  ;  but  follow  not  their  works  ; 
They  say  and  do  not.     They  bind  heavy  burdens 
And  very  grievous  to  be  borne,  and  lay  them 
Upon  men's  shoulders,  but  they  move  them  not 
With  so  much  as  a  finger ! 

GAMALIEL,  looking  forth. 

Who  is  this 
Exhorting  in  the  outer  courts  so  loudly  ? 

CHRISTUS. 

Their  works  they  do  for  to  be  seen  of  men. 
They  make  broad  their  phylacteries,  and  enlarge 
The  borders  of  their  garments,  and  they  love 
The  uppermost  rooms  at  feasts,  and  the  chief  seats 
In  Synagogues,  and  greetings  in  the  markets, 
And  to  be  called  of  all  men  Rabbi,  Rabbi ! 


no  The  Divine  Tragedy 

GAMALIEL. 

It  is  that  loud  and  turbulent  Galilean, 
That  came  here  at  the  Feast  of  Dedication, 
And  stirred  the  people  up  to  break  the  Law ! 

CHRISTUS. 

Woe  unto  you,  ye  Scribes  and  Pharisees, 
Ye  hypocrites  !  for  ye  shut  up  the  kingdom 
Of  heaven,  and  neither  go  ye  in  yourselves 
Nor  suffer  them  that  are  entering  to  go  in ! 

GAMALIEL. 

How  eagerly  the  people  throng  and  listen, 
As  if  his  ribald  words  were  words  of  wisdom ! 

CHRISTUS. 

Woe  unto  you,  ye  Scribes  and  Pharisees, 
Ye  hypocrites  !  for  ye  devour  the  houses 
Of  widows,  and  for  pretence  ye  make  long  prayers  ; 
Therefore  shall  ye  receive  the  more  damnation. 

GAMALIEL. 

This  brawler  is  no  Jew,  —  he  is  a  vile 
Samaritan,  and  hath  an  unclean  spirit ! 

CHRISTUS. 

Woe  unto  you,  ye  Scribes  and  Pharisees, 
Ye  hypocrites  !  ye  compass  sea  and  land 
To  make  one  proselyte,  and  when  he  is  made 


Solomons  Porch  in 

Ye  make  him  twofold  more  the  child  of  hell 
Than  you  yourselves  are  ! 

GAMALIEL. 

O  my  father's  father ! 
Hillel  of  blessed  memory,  hear  and  judge  ! 

CHRISTUS. 

Woe  unto  you,  ye  Scribes  and  Pharisees, 

Ye  hypocrites  !  for  ye  pay  tithe  of  mint, 

Of  anise  and  of  cumin,  and  omit 

The  weightier  matters  of  the  law  of  God, 

Judgment  and  faith  and  mercy  ;  and  all  these 

Ye  ought  to  have  done,  nor  leave  undone  the  others  ! 

GAMALIEL. 

O  Rabban  Simeon  !  how  must  thy  bones 
Stir  in  their  grave  to  hear  such  blasphemies ! 

CHRISTUS. 

Woe  unto  you,  ye  Scribes  and  Pharisees, 
Ye  hypocrites  !  for  ye  make  clean  and  sweet 
The  outside  of  the  cup  and  of  the  platter, 
But  they  within  are  full  of  all  excess ! 

GAMALIEL. 

Patience  of  God  !  canst  thou  endure  so  long  ? 
Or  art  thou  deaf,  or  gone  upon  a  journey  ? 


112  The  Divine  Tragedy 

CHRISTUS. 

Woe  unto  you,  ye  Scribes  and  Pharisees, 
Ye  hypocrites  !  for  ye  are  very  like 
To  whited  sepulchres,  which  indeed  appear 
Beautiful  outwardly,  but  are  within  ' 
Filled  full  of  dead  men's  bones  and  all  unclean- 
ness! 

GAMALIEL. 

Am  I  awake  ?     Is  this  Jerusalem  ? 
And  are  these  Jews  that  throng  and  stare  and 
listen  ? 

CHRISTUS. 

Woe  unto  you,  ye  Scribes  and  Pharisees, 

Ye  hypocrites  !  because  ye  build  the  tombs 

Of  Prophets,  and  adorn  the  sepulchres 

Of  righteous  men,  and  say  :  If  we  had  lived 

When  lived  our  fathers,  we  would  not  have  been 

Partakers  with  them  in  the  blood  of  Prophets. 

So  ye  be  witnesses  unto  yourselves, 

That    ye    are   children   of  them   that  killed   the 

Prophets ! 

Fill  ye  up  then  the  measure  of  your  fathers. 
I  send  unto  you  Prophets  and  Wise  Men, 
And  Scribes,  and  some  ye  crucify,  and  some 
Scourge  in  your  Synagogues,  and  persecute 
From  city  to  city ;  that  on  you  may  come 
The  righteous  blood  that  hath  been  shed  on  earth, 
From  the  blood  of  righteous  Abel  to  the  blood 


Solomons  Porch  113 

Of  Zacharias,  son  of  Barachias, 

Ye  slew  between  the  Temple  and  the  altar ! 


GAMALIEL. 

O,  had  I  here  my  subtle  dialectician, 
My  little  Saul  of  Tarsus,  the  tent-maker, 
Whose  wit  is  sharper  than  his  needle's  point, 
He  would  delight  to  foil  this  noisy  wrangler ! 

CHRISTUS. 

Jerusalem !  Jerusalem  !  O  thou 
That  killest  the  Prophets,  and  that  stonest  them 
Which  are  sent  unto  thee,  how  often  would  I 
Have  gathered  together  thy  children,  as  a  hen 
Gathereth  her  chickens  underneath  her  wing, 
And  ye  would  not !     Behold,  your  house  is  left 
Unto  you  desolate ! 

THE   PEOPLE. 

This  is  a  Prophet ! 
This  is  the  Christ  that  was  to  come ! 


GAMALIEL. 

Ye  fools! 
Think  ye,  shall  Christ  come  out  of  Galilee  ? 


114  The  Divine  Iragedy 

III. 
LORD,   IS   IT  I? 

CHRISTUS. 

ONE  of  you  shall  betray  me. 

THE   DISCIPLES. 

Is  it  I  ? 
Lord,  is  it  I  ? 

CHRISTUS. 

One  of  the  Twelve  it  is 
That  dippeth  with,  me  in  this  dish  his  hand ; 
He  shall  betray  me.     Lo,  the  Son  of  Man 
Goeth  indeed  as  it  is  written  of  him ; 
But  woe  shall  be  unto  thdt  man  by  whom 
He  is  betrayed !     Good  were  it  for  that  man 
If  he  had  ne'er  been  born  ! 

JUDAS    ISCARIOT. 

Lord,  is  it  I  ? 

CHRISTUS. 

Ay,  thou   hast   said.      And   that  thou   doest,   do 
quickly. 

JUDAS  ISCARIOT,  going  out. 

Ah,  woe  is  me ! 


Lord,  is  it  1 f  115 

CHRISTUS. 

All  ye  shall  be  offended 
Because  of  me  this  night ;  for  it  is  written  : 
Awake,  O  sword  against  my  shepherd !     Smite 
The  shepherd,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts,  and  scat 
tered 

Shall  be  the  sheep  !  —  But  after  I  am  risen 
I  go  before  you  into  Galilee. 

PETER. 

O  Master  !  though  all  men  shall  be  offended 
Because  of  thee,  yet  will  not  I  be ! 

CHRISTUS. 

Simon, 

Behold  how  Satan  hath  desired  to  have  you, 
That  he  may  sift  you  as  one  sifteth  wheat ! 
Whither  I  go  thou  canst  not  follow  me 
Not  now ;  —  but  thou  shalt  follow  me  hereafter. 

PETER. 

Wherefore  can  I  not  follow  thee  ?     I  am  ready 
To  go  with  thee  to  prison  and  to  death. 

CHRISTUS. 

Verily  say  I  unto  thee,  this  night, 
Ere  the  cock  crow,  thou  shalt  deny  me  thrice ! 

PETER. 
Though  I  should  die,  yet  will  I  not  deny  thee. 


n6  The  Divine  Tragedy 

CHRISTUS. 

When  first  I  sent  you  forth  without  a  purse 
Or  scrip,  or  shoes,  did  ye  lack  anything? 

THE   DISCIPLES. 

Not  anything. 

CHRISTUS. 

But  he  that  hath  a  purse, 
Now  let  him  take  it,  and  likewise  his  scrip ; 
And  he  that  hath  no  sword,  let  him  go  sell 
His  clothes  and  buy  one.     That  which  hath  been 

written 

Must  be  accomplished  now  :  He  hath  poured  out 
His  soul  even  unto  death ;  he  hath  been  numbered 
With  the  transgressors,  and  himself  hath  borne 
The  sin  of  many,  and  made  intercession 
For  the  transgressors.     And  here  have  an  end 
The  things  concerning  me. 

PETER. 

Behold,  O  Lord, 
Behold,  here  are  two  swords  ! 

CHRISTUS. 

It  is  enough. 


The  Garden  of  Gethsemane.  117 

IV. 

THE   GARDEN   OF  GETHSEMANE. 
CHRISTUS. 

MY  spirit  is  exceeding  sorrowful 
Even  unto  death  !     Tarry  ye  here  and  watch. 
He  goes  apart. 

PETER. 

Under  this  ancient  olive-tree,  that  spreads 
Its  broad  centennial  branches  like  a  tent, 
Let  us  lie  down  and  rest. 

JOHN. 

What  are  those  torches. 
That  glimmer  on  Brook  Kedron  there  below  us  ? 

JAMES. 

It  is  some  marriage  feast ;  the  joyful  maidens 
Go  out  to  meet  the  bridegroom. 

PETER. 

I  am  weary. 

The  struggles  of  this  day  have  overcome  me. 

They  sleep. 
CHRISTUS,  falling  on  his  face. 

Father  !  all  things  are  possible  to  thee,  — 


Ii8  The  Divine  Tragedy 

O  let  this  cup  pass  from  me  !     Nevertheless 
Not  as  I  will,  but  as  thou  wilt,  be  done  ! 

Returning  to  the  Disciples. 
What !  could  ye  not  watch  with  me  for  one  hour  ? 

0  watch  and  pray,  that  ye  may  enter  not 
Into  temptation.     For  the  spirit  indeed 
Is  willing,  but  the  flesh  is  weak  ! 

JOHN. 

Alas! 

It  is  for  sorrow  that  our  eyes  are  heavy.  — 

1  see  again  the  glimmer  of  those  torches 
Among  the  olives ;  they  are  coming  hither. 

JAMES. 

Outside  the  garden  wall  the  path  divides  ; 
Surely  they  come  not  hither. 

They  sleep  again. 

CHRISTUS,  as  before. 

O  my  Father ! 

If  this  cup  may  not  pass  away  from  me, 
Except  I  drink  of  it,  thy  will  be  done. 

Returning  to  the  Disciples. 
Sleep  on  ;  and  take  your  rest ! 

JOHN. 

Beloved  Master, 
Alas  !  we  know  not  what  to  answer  thee ! 


The  Garden  of  Gethsentane  119 

It  is  for  sorrow  that  our  eyes  are  heavy.  — 
Behold,  the  torches  now  encompass  us. 

JAMES. 

They  do  but  go  about  the  garden  wall, 
Seeking  for  some  one,  or  for  something  lost. 
They  sleep  again. 

CHRISTUS,  as  before. 

If  this  cup  may  not  pass  away  from  me, 
Except  I  drink  of  it,  thy  will  be  done.  . 

Returning  to  the  Disciples. 
It  is  enough  !     Behold,  the  Son  of  Man 
Hath  been  betrayed  into  the  hands  of  sinners ! 
The  hour  is  come.     Rise  up,  let  us  be  going ; 
For  he  that  shall  betray  me  is  at  hand. 

JOHN. 

Ah  me  !      See,  from  his  forehead,  in  the  torchlight, 
Great  drops  of  blood  are  falling  to  the  ground  ! 

PETER. 
What  lights  are  these?    What  torches  glare  and 

glisten 

Upon  the  swords  and  armor  of  these  men  ? 
And  there  among  them  Judas  Iscariot ! 

He  smites  the  servant  of  the  High- Priest  with  his  sword. 

CHRISTUS. 

Put  up  thy  sword  into  its  sheath  ;  for  they 


I2O  The  Divine  Tragedy 

That  take  the  sword  shall  perish  with  the  sword. 
The  cup  my  Father  hath  given  me  to  drink, 
Shall  I  not  drink  it  ?     Think'st  thou  that  I  cannot 
Pray  to  my  Father,  and  that  he  shall  give  me 
More  than  twelve  legions  of  angels  presently  ? 

JUDAS  to  CHRISTUS,  kissing  him. 

Hail,  Master  !  hail ! 

CHRISTUS. 

Friend,  wherefore  art  thou  come  ? 
Whom  seek  ye  ? 

CAPTAIN    OF    THE   TEMPLE. 

Jesus  of  Nazareth. 

CHRISTUS. 

I  am  he. 

Are  ye  come  hither  as  against  a  thief, 
With  swords  and  staves  to  take  me  ?    When  I  daily 
Was  with  you  in  the  Temple,  ye  stretched  forth 
No  hands  to  take  me  !     But  this  is  your  hour, 
And  this  the  power  of  darkness.     If  ye  seek 
Me  only,  let  these  others  go  their  way. 

The  Disciples  depart.  CHRISTUS  is  bound  and  led  away. 
A  certain  young  man  follows  him,  having  a  linen  cloth  cast 
about  his  body.  They  lay  hold  of  hint)  and  the  young  man 
flees  from  them  naked. 


The  Palace  of  Caiaphas  121 

V. 

THE  PALACE  OF  CAIAPHAS. 

PHARISEES. 

WHAT  do  we  ?     Clearly  something  must  we  do, 
For  this  man  worketh  many  miracles. 

CAIAPHAS. 

I  am  informed  that  he  is  a  mechanic ; 
A  carpenter's  son  ;  a  Galilean  peasant, 
Keeping  disreputable  company. 

PHARISEES. 

The  people  say  that  here  in  Bethany 
He  hath  raised  up  a  certain  Lazarus, 
Who  had  been  dead  three  days. 

CAIAPHAS. 

Impossible  ! 

There  is  no  resurrection  of  the  dead  ; 

This  Lazarus  should  be  taken,  and  put  to  death 

As  an  impostor.     If  this  Galilean 

Would  be  content  to  stay  in  Galilee, 

And  preach  in  country  towns,  I  should  not  heed 

him. 

But  when  he  comes  up  to  Jerusalem 
Riding  in  triumph,  as  I  am  informed, 


122  The  Divine  Tragedy 

And  drives  the  money-changers  from  the  Temple, 
That  is  another  matter. 


PHARISEES. 

If  we  thus 

Let  him  alone,  all  will  believe  on  him, 
And  then  the  Romans  come  and  take  away 
Our  place  and  nation. 

CAIAPHAS. 

Ye  know  nothing  at  all. 
Simon  Ben  Camith,  my  great  predecessor, 
On  whom  be  peace  !  would  have  dealt  presently 
With  such  a  demagogue.     I  shall  no  less. 
The  man  must  die.     Do  ye  consider  not 
It  is  expedient  that  one  man  should  die, 
Not  the  whole  nation  perish  ?    What  is  death  ? 
It  differeth  from  sleep  but  in  duration. 
We  sleep  and  wake  again  ;  an  hour  or  two 
Later  or  earlier,  and  it  matters  not, 
And  if  we  never  wake  it  matters  not ; 
When  we  are  in  our  graves  we  are  at  peace, 
Nothing  can  wake  us  or  disturb  us  more. 
There  is  no  resurrection. 

PHARISEES,  aside. 

O  most  faithful 

Disciple  of  Hircanus  Maccabaeus, 
Will  nothing  but  complete  annihilation 
Comfort  and  satisfy  thee  ? 


The  Palace  of  Caiaphas  123 

CAIAPHAS. 

While  ye  are  talking 

And  plotting,  and  contriving  how  to  take  him, 
Fearing  the  people,  and  so  doing  naught, 
I,  who  fear  not  the  people,  have  been  acting ; 
Have  taken  this  Prophet,  this  young  Nazarene, 
Who  by  Beelzebub  the  Prince  of  devils 
Casteth  out  devils,  and  doth  raise  the  dead, 
That  might  as  well  be  dead,  and  left  in  peace. 
Annas  my  father-in-law  hath  sent  him  hither. 
I  hear  the  guard.     Behold  your  Galilean  ! 

CHRISTUS  is  brought  in  bound. 
SERVANT,  in  the  vestibule. 

Why  art  thou  up  so  late,  my  pretty  damsel  ? 

DAMSEL. 

Why  art  thou  up  so  early,  pretty  man  ? 

It  is  not  cock-crow  yet,  and  art  thou  stirring  ? 

SERVANT. 
What  brings  thee  here  ? 

DAMSEL. 

What  brings  the  rest  of  you  ? 

SERVANT. 

Come  here  and  warm  thy  hands. 


124  The  Divine  Tragedy 

DAMSEL  to  PETER. 

Art  thou  not  also 
One  of  this  man's  disciples  ? 

PETER. 

I  am  not. 

DAMSEL. 

Now  surely  thou  art  also  one  of  them  ; 
Thou  art  a  Galilean,  and  thy  speech 
Bewrayeth  thee. 

PETER. 
Woman,  I  know  him  not ! 

CAIAPHAS  to  CHRISTUS,  in  the  Hall. 

Who  art  thou  ?    Tell  us  plainly  of  thyself 
And  of  thy  doctrines,  and  of  thy  disciples. 

CHRISTUS. 

Lo,  I  have  spoken  openly  to  the  world, 
I  have  taught  ever  in  the  Synagogue, 
And  in  the  Temple,  where  the  Jews  resort ; 
In  secret  have  said  nothing.     Wherefore  then 
Askest  thou  me  of  this  ?     Ask  them  that  heard  me 
What  I  have  said  to  them.     Behold  they  know 
What  I  have  said ! 

OFFICER,  striking  him. 

What,  fellow  !  answerest  thou 
The  High-Priest  so  ? 


The  Palace  of  Caiaphas  125 

CHRISTUS. 

If  I  have  spoken  evil, 
Bear  witness  of  the  evil  •  but  if  well, 
Why  smitest  thou  me  ? 

CAIAPHAS. 

Where  are  the  witnesses  ? 
Let  them  say  what  they  know. 

THE   TWO    FALSE   WITNESSES. 

We  heard  him  say  : 

I  will  destroy  this  Temple  made  with  hands. 
And  will  within  three  days  build  up  another 
Made  without  hands. 

SCRIBES  and  PHARISEES. 

He  is  o'erwhelmed  with  shame 
And  cannot  answer ! 

CAIAPHAS. 

Dost  thou  answer  nothing  ? 
What  is  this  thing  they  witness  here  against  thee  ? 

SCRIBES   and  PHARISEES. 

He  holds  his  peace. 

CAIAPHAS. 

Tell  us,  art  thou  the  Christ  ? 
I  do  adjure  thee  by  the  living  God, 
Tell  us,  art  thou  indeed  the  Christ  ? 


126  The  Divine  Tragedy 

CHRISTUS. 

I  am. 

Hereafter  shall  ye  see  the  Son  of  Man 
Sit  on  the  right  hand  of  the  power  of  God, 
And  come  in  clouds  of  heaven  ! 

CAIAPHAS,  rending  his  clothes. 

It  is  enough. 

He  hath  spoken  blasphemy !     What  further  need 
Have  we  of  witnesses  ?     Now  ye  have  heard 

His  blasphemy.     What  think  ye  ?     Is  he  guilty? 

i 

SCRIBES  and  PHARISEES. 

Guilty  of  death  ! 

KINSMAN   OF   MALCHUS  to  PETER,  in  the  vestibule. 

Surely  I  know  thy  face, 
Did  I  not  see  thee  in  the  garden  with  him  ? 

PETER. 

How  couldst  thou  see  me  ?     I  swear  unto  thee 
I  do  not  know  this  man  of  whom  ye  speak ! 

The  cock  crows. 

Hark  !  the  cock  crows  !     That  sorrowful,  pale  face 
Seeks  for  me  in  the  crowd,  and  looks  at  me, 
As  if  he  would  remind  me  of  those  words  : 
Ere  the  cock  crow  thou  shalt  deny  me  thrice  ! 

Goes  out  weeping.     CHRISTUS  is  blindfolded  and  buffeted. 


Pontius  Pilate  127 

AN   OFFICER,  striking  him  with  his  palm. 

Prophesy  unto  us,  thou  Christ,  thou  Prophet ! 
Who  is  it  smote  thee  ? 

CAIAPHAS. 

Lead  him  unto  Pilate  ! 


VI. 
PONTIUS   PILATE. 

T 

PILATE. 

WHOLLY  incomprehensible  to  me, 

Vainglorious,  obstinate,  and  given  up 

To  unintelligible  old  traditions, 

And  proud,  and  self-conceited  are  these  Jews ! 

Not  long  ago,  I  marched  the  legions  down 

From  Cassarea  to  their  winter-quarters 

Here  in  Jerusalem,  with  the  effigies 

Of  Caesar  on  their  ensigns,  and  a  tumult 

Arose  among  these  Jews,  because  their  Law 

Forbids  the  making  of  all  images  ! 

They  threw  themselves  upon  the  ground  with  wild 

Expostulations,  bared  their  necks,  and  cried 

That  they  would  sooner  die  than  have  their  Law 

Infringed  in  any  manner ;  as  if  Numa 

Were  not  as  great  as  Moses,  and  the  Laws 

Of  the  Twelve  Tables  as  their  Pentateuch ! 


128  The  Divine  Tragedy 

And  then,  again,  when  I  desired  to  span 
Their  valley  with  an  aqueduct,  and  bring 
A  rushing  river  in  to  wash  the  city 
And  its  inhabitants, — they  all  rebelled 
As  if  they  had  been  herds  of  unwashed  swine  ! 
Thousands  and  thousands  of  them  got  together 
And  raised  so  great  a  clamor  round  my  doors, 
That,  fearing  violent  outbreak,  I  desisted, 
And  left  them  to  their  wallowing  in  the  mire. 

And  now  here  comes  the  reverend  Sanhedrim 

Of  lawyers,  pr^sts,  and  Scribes  and  Pharisees 

Like  old  and  toothless  mastiffs,  that  can  bark, 

But  cannot  bite,  howling  their  accusations 

Against  a  mild  enthusiast,  who  hath  preached 

I  know  not  what  new  doctrine,  being  King 

Of  some  vague  kingdom  in  the  other  world, 

That  hath  no  more  to  do  with  Rome  and  Caesar 

Than  I  have  with  the  patriarch  Abraham  ! 

Finding  this  man  to  be  a  Galilean 

I  sent  him  straight  to  Herod,  and  I  hope 

That  is  the  last  of  it ;  but  if  it  be  not, 

I  still  have  power  to  pardon  and  release  him, 

As  is  the  custom  at  the  Passover, 

And  so  accommodate  the  matter  smoothly, 

Seeming  to  yield  to  them,  yet  saving  him ; 

A  prudent  and  sagacious  policy 

For  Roman  Governors  in  the  Provinces. 


Barabbas  in  Prison  129 

Incomprehensible,  fanatic  people  ! 

Ye  have  a  God,  who  seemeth  like  yourselves 

Incomprehensible,  dwelling  apart, 

Majestic,  cloud-encompassed,  clothed  in  darkness  ! 

One  whom  ye  fear,  but  love  not ;  yet  ye  have 

No  Goddesses  to  soften  your  stern  lives, 

And  make  you  tender  unto  human  weakness, 

While  we  of  Rome  have  everywhere  around  us 

Our  amiable  divinities,  that  haunt 

The  woodlands,  and  the  waters,  and  frequent 

Our  households,   with  their   sweet   and  gracious 

presence ! 

I  will  go  in,  and  while  these  Jews  are  wrangling, 
Read  my  Ovidius  on  the  Art  of  Love. 


VII. 

BARABBAS   IN   PRISON. 

BARABBAS,  to  his  fellow-prisoners. 
BARABBAS  is  my  name, 
Barabbas,  the  Son  of  Shame, 

Is  the  meaning  I  suppose ; 
I  'm  no  better  than  the  best, 
And  whether  worse  than  the  rest 

Of  my  fellow-men,  who  knows  ? 

I  was  once,  to  say  it  in  brief, 
A  highwayman,  a  robber  chief, 
In  the  open  light  of  day. 
9 


130  The  Divine  Tragedy 

So  much  I  am  free  to  confess ; 
But  all  men,  more  or  less, 
Are  robbers  in  their  way. 

From  my  cavern  in  the  crags, 
From  my  lair  of  leaves  and  flags, 

I  could  see,  like  ants,  below, 
The  camels  with  their  load 
Of  merchandise,  on  the  road 

That  leadeth  to  Jericho. 

And  I  struck  them  unaware, 
As  an  eagle  from  the  air 

Drops  down  upon  bird  or  beast ; 
And  I  had  my  heart's  desire 
Of  the  merchants  of  Sidon  and  Tyre, 

And  Damascus  and  the  East. 

But  it  is  not  for  that  I  fear  ; 
It  is  not  for  that  I  am  here 

In  these  iron  fetters  bound  ; 
Sedition  !  that  is  the  word 
That  Pontius  Pilate  heard, 

And  he  liketh  not  the  sound. 

What,  think  ye,  would  he  care 
For  a  Jew  slain  here  or  there, 

Or  a  plundered  caravan  ? 
But  Caesar !  —  ah,  that  is  a  crime, 


Barabbas  in  Prison  131 

To  the  uttermost  end  of  time 
Shall  not  be  forgiven  to  man. 

Therefore  was  Herod  wroth 
With  Matthias  Margaloth, 

And  burned  him  for  a  show  ! 
Therefore  his  wrath  did  smite 
Judas  the  Gaulonite, 

And  his  followers,  as  ye  know. 

For  that  cause,  and  no  more, 
Am  I  here,  as  I  said  before ; 

For  one  unlucky  night^ 
Jucundus,  the  captain  of  horse, 
Was  upon  us  with  all  his  force, 

And  I  was  caught  in  the  fight. 

I  might  have  fled  with  the  rest, 
But  my  dagger  was  in  the  breast 

Of  a  Roman  equerry  ; 
As  we  rolled  there  in  the  street, 
They  bound  me,  hands  and  feet; 

And  this  is  the  end  of  me. 

Who  cares  for  death  ?     Not  I ! 
A  thousand  times  I  would  die, 

Rather  than  suffer  wrong  ! 
Already  those  women  of  mine 
Are  mixing  the  myrrh  and  the  wine  ; 

I  shall  not  be  with  you  long. 


132  The  Divine  Tragedy 

VIII. 

ECCE   HOMO. 
PILATE,  on  the  Tessellated  Pavement  in  front  of  his  Palace. 

YE  have  brought  unto  me  this  man,  as  one 
Who  doth  pervert  the  people  ;  and  behold ! 
I  have  examined  him,  and  found  no  fault 
Touching  the  things  whereof  ye  do  accuse  him. 
No,  nor  yet  Herod  ;  for  I  sent  you  to  him, 
And  nothing  worthy  of  death  he  findeth  in  him. 
Ye  have  a  custom  at  the  Passover, 
That  one  condemned  to  death  shall  be  released. 
Whom  will  ye,  then,  that  I  release  to  you  ? 
Jesus  Barabbas,  called  the  Son  of  Shame, 
Or  Jesus,  Son  of  Joseph,  called  the  Christ  ? 

THE   PEOPLE,  shouting. 

Not  this  man,  but  Barabbas ! 

PILATE. 

What  then  will  ye 

That  I  should  do  with  him  that  is  called  Christ  ? 

THE    PEOPLE. 

Crucify  him ! 

PILATE. 

Why,  what  evil  hath  he  done  ? 
Lo,  I  have  found  no  cause  of  death  in  him  ; 
I  will  chastise  him,  and  then  let  him  go. 


Ecce  Homo  133 

THE  PEOPLE,  more  vehemently. 
Crucify  him  !  crucify  him  ! 

A   MESSENGER,    to   PILATE. 

Thy  wife  sends 

This  message  to  thee  :  —  Have  thou  naught  tt,  do 
With  that  just  man  ;  for  I  this  day  in  dreams 
Have  suffered  many  things  because  of  him. 

PILATE,  aside. 

The  Gods  speak  to  us  in  our  dreams !     I  tremble 
At  what  I  have  to  do  !     O  Claudia, 
How  shall  I  save  him  ?     Yet  one  effort  more, 
Or  he  must  perish ! 

Washes  his  hands  before  them. 

I  am  innocent 
Of  the  blood  of  this  just  person ;  see  ye  to  it ! 

THE    PEOPLE. 

Let  his  blood  be  on  us  and  on  our  children ! 

VOICES,  'within  the  Palace. 

Put  on  thy  royal  robes  ;  put  oh  thy  crown, 
And  take  thy  sceptre  !      Hail,  thou  King  of  the 
Jews ! 

PILATE. 

I  bring  him  forth  to  you,  that  ye  may  know 
I  find  no  fault  in  him.     Behold  the  man  ! 
CHRISTUS  is  led  in,  with  the  purple  robe  and  crown  of  thorns. 


134  The  Divine  Tragedy 

CHIEF   PRIESTS   and  OFFICERS. 

Crucify  him  !  crucify  him ! 

PILATE. 

Take  ye  him ; 
I  find  no  fault  in  him. 

CHIEF   PRIESTS. 

We  have  a  Law, 

And  by  our  Law  he  ought  to  die  ;  because 
He  made  himself  to  be  the  Son  of  God. 

PILATE,  aside. 

Ah !  there  are  Sons  of  God,  and  demi-gods 
More  than  ye  know,  ye  ignorant  High-Priests  ! 

To  CHRISTUS. 
Whence  art  thou  ? 

CHIEF    PRIESTS. 

Crucify  him  !  crucify  him  ! 

PILATE,  to  CHRISTUS. 

Dost  thou  not  answer  me  ?     Dost  thou  not  know 
That  I  have  power  enough  to  crucify  thee? 
That  I  have  also  power  to  set  thee  free  ? 

CHRISTUS. 

Thou  couldest  have  no  power  at  all  against  me 
Except  that  it  were  given  thee  from  above  ; 


Ecce  Homo  135 

Therefore  hath  he  that  sent  me  unto  thee 
The  greater  sin. 

CHIEF    PRIESTS. 

If  thou  let  this  man  go, 
Thou  art  not  Caesar's  friend.     For  whosoever 
Maketh  himself  a  King,  speaks  against  Csesar. 

PILATE. 
Ye  Jews,  behold  your  King ! 

CHIEF   PRIESTS. 

Away  with  him  1 
Crucify  him ! 

PILATE. 

Shall  I  crucify  your  King  ? 

CHIEF    PRIES']  S. 

We  have  no  King  but  Csesar  ! 

PILATE. 

Take  him,  then, 

Take  him,  ye  cruel  and  bloodthirsty  Priests, 
More  merciless  than  the  plebeian  mob, 
Who  pity  and  spare  the  fainting  gladiator 
Blood-stained  in  Roman  amphitheatres,  — 
Take  him,  and  crucify  him  if  ye  will ; 
But  if  the  immortal  Gods  do  ever  mingle 
With  the  affairs  of  mortals,  which  I  doubt  not, 
And  hold  the  attribute  of  justice  dear, 


136  The  Divine  Tragedy 

They  will  commission  the  Eumenides 
To  scatter  you  to  the  four  winds  of  heaven, 
Exacting  tear  for  tear,  and  blood  for  blood. 
Here,  take  ye  this  inscription,  Priests,  and  nail  it 
Upon  the  cross,  above  your  victim's  head  : 
Jesus  of  Nazareth,  King  of  the  Jews. 

CHIEF    PRIESTS. 

Nay,  we  entreat !  write  not,  the  King  of  the  Jews 
But  that  he  said  :  I  am  the  King  of  the  Jews ! 

PILATE. 
Enough.     What  I  have  written,  I  have  written ! 


IX. 

ACELDAMA. 
JUDAS    ISCARIOT. 

Lost !  lost !  forever  lost !     I  have  betrayed 
The  innocent  blood  !     O  God !  if  thou  art  love, 
Why  didst  thou  leave  me  naked  to  the  tempter  ? 
Why  didst  thou  not  commission  thy  swift  lightning 
To  strike  me  dead  ?  or  why  did  I  not  perish 
With  those  by  Herod  slain,  the  innocent  children 
Who  went  with  playthings  in  their  little  hands 
Into  the  darkness  of  the  other  world, 
As  if  to  bed  ?     Or  wherefore  was  I  born, 


Aceldama  137 

If  thou  in  thy  foreknowledge  didst  perceive 
All  that  I  am,  and  all  that  I  must  be  ? 
I  know  I  am  not  generous,  am  not  gentle 
Like  other  men  ;  but  I  have  tried  to  be, 
And  I  have  failed.     I  thought  by  following  Him, 
I  should  grow  like  him  ;  but  the  unclean  spirit 
That  from  my  childhood  up  hath  tortured  me 
Hath  been  too  cunning  and  too  strong  for  me. 
Am  I  to  blame  for  this  ?     Am  I  to  blame 
Because  I  cannot  love,  and  ne'er  have  known. 
The  love  of  woman  or  the  love  of  children  ? 
It  is  a  curse  and  a  fatality, 
A  mark,  that  hath  been  set  upon  my  forehead, 
That  none  shall  slay  me,  for  it  were  a  mercy 
That  I  were  dead,  or  never  had  been  born. 

Too  late  !  too  late  !  I  shall  not  see  him  more 
Among  the  living.     That  sweet,  patient  face 
Will  never  more  rebuke  me,  nor  those  lips 
Repeat  the  words  :  One  of  you  shall  betray  me  ! 
It  stung  me  into  madness.     How  I  loved, 
Yet  hated  him  !     But  in  the  other  world  ! 
I  will  be  there  before  him,  and  will  wait 
Until  he  comes,  and  fall  down  on  my  knees 
And  kiss  his  feet,  imploring  pardon,  pardon  ! 

I  heard  him  say  :  All  sins  shall  be  forgiven, 
Except  the  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost. 
That  shall  not  be  forgiven  in  this  world, 


138  The  Divine  Tragedy 

Nor  in  the  world  to  come.     Is  that  my  sin  ? 
Have  I  offended  so  there  is  no  hope 
Here  nor  hereafter  ?     That  I  soon  shall  know. 
O  God,  have  mercy  !     Christ  have  mercy  on  me ! 
Throws  himself  headlong  from  the  cliff. 


X. 

THE  THREE  CROSSES. 

MANAHEM,    THE    ESSENIAN. 

THREE  crosses  in  this  noonday  night  uplifted, 
Three  human  figures,  that  in  mortal  pain 
Gleam  white  against  the  supernatural  darkness  ; 
Two  thieves,  that  writhe  in  torture,  and  between 

them 

The  Suffering  Messiah,  the  Son  of  Joseph, 
Ay,  the  Messiah  Triumphant,  Son  of  David ! 
A  crown  of  thorns  on  that  dishonored  head ! 
Those  hands  that  healed  the  sick  now  pierced  with 

nails, 
Those  feet  that  wandered   homeless  through  the 

world 

Now  crossed  and  bleeding,  and  at  rest  forever ! 
And  the  three  faithful  Maries,  overwhelmed 
By  this  great  sorrow,  kneeling,  praying,  weeping  ! 
O  Joseph  Caiaphas,  thou  great  High-Priest, 
How  wilt  thou  answer  for  this  deed  of  blood  ? 


The  Three  Crosses  139 

SCRIBES   and  ELDERS. 

Thou  that  destroyest  the  Temple,  and  dost  build  it 

In  three  days,  save  thyself;  and  if  thou  be 

The  Son  of  God,  come  down  now  from  the  cross. 

CHIEF    PRIESTS. 

Others  he  saved,  himself  he  cannot  save ! 
Let  Christ  the  King  of  Israel  descend 
That  we  may  see  and  believe  ! 

SCRIBES   and  ELDERS. 

In  God  he  trusted  ; 

Let  him  deliver  him,  if  he  will  have  him, 
And  we  will  then  believe. 

CHRISTUS. 

Father !  forgive  them  \ 
They  know  not  what  they  do. 

THE   IMPENITENT  THIEF. 

If  thou  be  Christ, 
O  save  thyself  and  us  ! 

THE   PENITENT   THIEF. 

Remember  me, 
Lord,  when  thou  comest  into  thine  own  kingdom. 

CHRISTUS. 

This  day  shalt  thou  be  with  me  in  Paradise. 


140  The  Divine  Tragedy 

MANAHEM. 

Golgotha  !  Golgotha !     O  the  pain  and  darkness  ! 
O  the  uplifted  cross,  that  shall  forever 
Shine  through  the  darkness,  and  shall  conquer  pain 
By  the  triumphant  memory  of  this  hour  ! 

SIMON   MAGUS. 

0  Nazarene  !  I  find  thee  here  at  last ! 
Thou  art  no  more  a  phantom  unto  me  ! 
This  is  the  end  of  one  who  called  himself 
The  Son  of  God !     Such  is  the  fate  of  those 
Who  preach  new  doctrines.     'T  is  not  what  he  did, 
But  what  he  said,  hath  brought  him  unto  this. 

1  will  speak  evil  of  no  dignitaries. 
This  is  my  hour  of  triumph,  Nazarene  ! 

THE   YOUNG   RULER. 

This  is  the  end  of  him  who  said  to  me  : 
Sell  that  thou  hast,  and  give  unto  the  poor  ! 
This  is  the  treasure  in  heaven  he  promised  me ! 

CHRISTUS. 

Eloi,  Eloi,  lama  sabacthani  I 

A  SOLDIER,  preparing  the  hyssop. 

He  calleth  for  Elias  ! 

ANOTHER. 

Nay,  let  be  ! 
See  if  Elias  now  will  come  to  save  him ! 


The  two  Maries  141 

CHRISTUS. 
I  thirst. 

A  SOLDIER. 

Give  him  the  wormwood  ! 

CHRISTUS,  with  a  loud  cry,  bowing  his  head. 

It  is  finished ! 


XI. 

THE  TWO  MARIES. 

MARY   MAGDALENE. 

WE  have  arisen  early,  yet  the  sun 
O'ertakes  us  ere  we  reach  the  sepulchre, 
To  wrap  the  body  of  our  blessed  Lord 
With  our  sweet  spices. 

MARY,  MOTHER  OF  JAMES. 

Lo,  this  is  the  garden, 
And  yonder  is  the  sepulchre.     But  who 
Shall  roll  away  the  stone  for  us  to  enter  ? 

MARY   MAGDALENE. 

It  hath  been  rolled  away  !     The  sepulchre 
Is  open !     Ah,  who  hath  been  here  before  us, 
When  we  rose  early,  wishing  to  be  first  ? 


142  The  Divine  Tragedy 

MARY,  MOTHER   OF   JAMES. 

I  am  affrighted ! 

MARY   MAGDALENE. 

• 

Hush  !  I  will  stoop  down 

And  look  within.     There  is  a  young  man  sitting 
On  the  right  side,  clothed  in  a  long  white  garment! 
It  is  an  angel ! 

THE   ANGEL. 

Fear  not ;  ye  are  seeking 
Jesus  of  Nazareth,  which  was  crucified. 
Why  do  ye  seek  the  living  among  the  dead  ? 
He  is  no  longer  here  ;  he  is  arisen  ! 
Come  see  the  place  where  the  Lord  lay  !     Remem 
ber 

How  he  spake  unto  you  in  Galilee, 
Saying  :  The  Son  of  Man  must  be  delivered 
Into  the  hands  of  sinful  men  ;  by  them 
Be  crucified,  and  the  third  day  rise  again ! 
But  go  your  way,  and  say  to  his  disciples, 
He  goeth  before  you  into  Galilee  ; 
There  shall  ye  see  him  as  he  said  to  you. 

MARY,  MOTHER   OF   JAMES. 

I  will  go  swiftly  for  them. 

MARY   MAGDALENE,  alone,  weeping. 

•          They  have  taken 
My  Lord  away  from  me,  and  now  I  know  not 


The  Sea  of  Galilee  143 

Where  they  have  laid  him  !     Who  is  there  to  tell 

me? 
This  is  the  gardener.     Surely  he  must  know. 

CHRISTUS. 
Woman,  why  weepest  thou  ?     Whom  seekest  thou  ? 

MARY   MAGDALENE. 

They  have  taken  my  Lord  away  j  I  cannot  find  him. 
O  Sir,  if  thou  have  borne  him  hence,  I  pray  thee 
Tell  me  where  thou  hast  laid  him. 

CHRISTUS. 

Mary ! 

MARY   MAGDALENE. 

Rabboni ! 


XII. 

THE  SEA  OF  GALILEE. 
NATHANAEL,  in  the  ship. 

ALL  is  now  ended. 

JOHN. 

Nay,  he  is  arisen. 

I  ran  unto  the  tomb,  and  stooping  down 
Looked  in,  and  saw  the  linen  grave-clothes  lying, 
Yet  dared  not  enter. 


144  The  Divine  Tragedy 

PETER. 

I  went  in,  and  saw 

The  napkin  that  had  been  about  his  head, 
Not  lying  with  the  other  linen  clothes, 
But  wrapped  together  in  a  separate  place. 

THOMAS. 

And  I  have  seen  him.     I  have  seen  the  print 
Of  nails  upon  his  hands,  and  thrust  my  hands 
Into  his  side.     I  know  he  is  arisen  ; 
But  where  are  now  the  kingdom  and  the  glory 
He  promised  unto  us  ?     We  have  all  dreamed 
That  we  were  princes,  and  we  wake  to  find 
We  are  but  fishermen. 

PETER. 

Who  should  have  been 
Fishers  of  men ! 

JOHN. 

We  have  come  back  again 
To  the  old  life,  the  peaceful  life,  among 
The  white  towns  of  the  Galilean  lake. 

PETER. 

They  seem  to  me  like  silent  sepulchres 
In  the  gray  light  of  morning !     The  old  life, 
Yea,  the  old  life  !  for  we  have  toiled  all  night 
And  have  caught  nothing. 


The  Sea  of  Galilee  145 

JOHN. 

Do  ye  see  a  man 

Standing  upon  the  beach  and  beckoning  ? 
'T  is  like  an  apparition.     He  hath  kindled 
A  fire  of  coals,  and  seems  to  wait  for  us. 
He  calleth. 

CHRISTUS,  from  the  shore. 

Children,  have  ye  any  meat  ? 

PETER. 
Alas  !    We  have  caught  nothing. 

CHRISTUS. 

Cast  the  net 
On  the  right  side  of  the  ship,  and  ye  shall  find. 

PETER. 

How  that  reminds  me  of  the  days  gone  by, 
And  one  who  said  :  Launch  out  into  the  deep, 
And  cast  your  nets  ! 

NATHANAEL. 

We  have  but  let  them  down 
And  they  are  filled,  so  that  we  cannot  draw  them ! 


JOHN. 

It  is  the  Lord  ! 
10 


146  The  Divine  Tragedy 

PETER,  girding  his  fisher's  coat  about  him. 

He  said  :  When  I  am  risen 
I  will  go  before  you  into  Galilee  ! 

He  casts  himself  into  the  lake. 

JOHN. 

There  is  no  fear  in  love ;  for  perfect  love 
Casteth  out  fear.     Now  then,  if  ye  are  men, 
Put  forth  your  strength  ;  we  are  not  far  from  shore ; 
The  net  is  heavy,  but  breaks  not.     All  is  safe. 

PETER,  on  the  shore. 

Dear  Lord !  I  heard  thy  voice  and  could  not  wait. 
Let  me  behold  thy  face,  and  kiss  thy  feet ! 
Thou  art  not  dead,  thou  livest !     Again  I  see  thee. 
Pardon,  dear  Lord  !     I  am  a  sinful  man  j 
I  have  denied  thee  thrice.     Have  mercy  on  me ! 

THE  OTHERS,  coming  to  land. 

Dear  Lord !  stay  with  us !  cheer  us  !  comfort  us ! 
Lo !  we  again  have  found  thee  !     Leave  us  not ! 

CHRISTUS. 

Bring  hither  of  the  fish  that  ye  have  caught, 
And  come  and  eat ! 

JOHN. 

Behold  !  he  breaketh  bread 
As  he  was  wont.     From  his  own  blessed  hands 
Again  we  take  it. 


The  Sea  of  Galilee  147 

CHRISTUS. 

Simon,  son  of  Jonas, 
Lovest  thou  me,  more  than  these  others  ? 

PETER. 

Yea, 

More,  Lord,  than  all  men  ;  even  more  than  these. 
Thou  knowest  that  I  love  thee. 

CHRISTUS. 

Feed  my  lambs. 

THOMAS,  'aside. 

How  more  than  we  do  ?     He  remaineth  ever 
Self-confident  and  boastful  as  before. 
Nothing  will  cure  him. 

CHRISTUS. 

Simon,  son  of  Jonas, 
Lovest  thou  me  ? 

PETER. 

Yea,  dearest  Lord,  I  love  thee. 
Thou  knowest  that  I  love  thee. 

CHRISTUS. 

Feed  my  sheep. 

THOMAS,  aside. 

Again,  the  selfsame  question,  and  the  answer 
Repeated  with  more  vehemence.     Can  the  Mastef 
Doubt  if  we  love  him  ? 


Lovest  thou  me  ? 


CHRISTUS. 

Simon,  son  of  Jonas, 


148  The  Divine  Tragedy 

PETER,  grieved. 

Dear  Lord !  thou  knowest  all  things. 
Thou  knowest  that  I  love  thee. 

CHRISTUS. 

Feed  my  sheep. 
When  thou  wast  young  thou  girdedst  thyself,  and 

walkedst 

Whither  thou  wouldst ;  but  when  thou  shalt  be  old, 
Thou  shalt  stretch  forth  thy  hands,  and  other  men 
Shall  gird  and  carry  thee  whither  thou  wouldst  not. 
Follow  thou  me ! 

JOHN,  aside. 

It  is  a  prophecy 
Of  what  death  he  shall  die. 

PETER,  pointing  to  JOHN. 

Tell  me,  O  Lord, 
And  what  shall  this  man  do  ? 

CHRISTUS. 

And  if  I  will 

He  tarry  till  I  come,  what  is  it  to  thee  ? 
Follow  thou  me ! 

PETER. 

• 
Yea,  I  will  follow  thee,  dear  Lord  and  Master ! 

Will  follow  thee  through  fasting  and  temptation, 
Through  all  thine  agony  and  bloody  sweat, 
Thy  cross  and  passion,  even  unto  death  I 


EPILOGUE 


SYMBOLUM   APOSTOLORUM. 
PETER. 

I  BELIEVE  in  God  the  Father  Almighty ; 

JOHN. 
Maker  of  Heaven  and  Earth  ; 

JAMES. 
And  in  Jesus  Christ  his  only  Son,  our  Lord  j 

ANDREW. 

Who  was  conceived  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  born  of 
the  Virgin  Mary ; 

PHILIP. 

Suffered  under  Pontius  Pilate,  was  crucified,  dead 
and  buried ; 

THOMAS. 
And  the  third  day  he  rose  again  from  the  dead ; 


150  Epilogue 


BARTHOLOMEW. 


He  ascended  into  Heaven,  and  sitteth  on  the  right 
hand  of  God,  the  Father  Almighty ; 

MATTHEW. 

From  thence  he  shall  come  to  judge  the  quick  and 
the  dead. 

JAMES,  THE  SON   OF   ALPHEUS. 

I  believe  in  the  Holy  Ghost;   the  holy  Catholic 
Church ; 

SIMON   ZELOTES. 

The  communion  of  Saints ;  the  forgiveness  of  sins ; 

JUDE. 
The  resurrection  of  the  body ; 

MATTHIAS. 

And  the  Life  Everlasting. 


FIRST    INTERLUDE 

THE   ABBOT   JOACHIM 


THE  ABBOT  JOACHIM 

A  room  in  the  Convent  of  Flora  in  Calabria.     Night. 

JOACHIM. 

THE  wind  is  rising  ;  it  seizes  and  shakes 
The  doors  and  window-blinds,  and  makes 
Mysterious  moanings  in  the  halls  ; 
The  convent-chimneys  seem  almost 
The  trumpets  of  some  heavenly  host, 
Setting  its  watch  upon  our  walls  ! 
Where  it  listeth,  there  it  bloweth  ; 
We  hear  the  sound,  but  no  man  knoweth 
Whence  it  cometh  or  whither  it  goeth, 
And  thus  it  is  with  the  Holy  Ghost. 

0  breath  of  God  !  O  my  delight 
In  many  a  vigil  of  the  night, 

Like  the  great  voice  in  Patmos  heard 
By  John,  the  Evangelist  of  the  Word, 

1  hear  thee  behind  me  saying  :  Write 

In  a  book  the  things  that  thou  hast  seen, 
The  things  that  are,  and  that  have  been, 
And  the  things  that  shall  hereafter  be  ! 

This  convent,  on  the  rocky  crest 
Of  the  Calabrian  hills,  to  rne 


154  First  Interlude 

A  Patmos  is  wherein  I  rest ; 
While  round  about  me  like  a  sea 
The  white  mists  roll,  and  overflow 
The  world  that  lies  unseen  below 
In  darkness  and  in  mystery. 
Here  in  the  Spirit,  in  the  vast 
Embrace  of  God's  encircling  arm, 
Am  I  uplifted  from  all  harm ; 
The  world  seems  something  far  away, 
Something  belonging  to  the  Past, 
A  hostlery,  a  peasant's  farm, 
That  lodged  me  for  a  night  or  day, 
In  which  I  care  not  to  remain, 
Nor  having  left,  to  see  again. 

Thus,  in  the  hollow  of  God's  hand 

I  dwelt  on  sacred  Tabor's  height, 

When  as  a  simple  acolyte 

I  journeyed  to  the  Holy  Land, 

A  pilgrim  for  my  Master's  sake, 

And  saw  the  Galilean  Lake, 

And  walked  through  many  a  village  street 

That  once  had  echoed  to  his  feet. 

There  first  I  heard  the  great  command, 

The  voice  behind  me  saying  :  Write  ! 

And  suddenly  my  soul  became 

Illumined  by  a  flash  of  flame, 

That  left  imprinted  on  my  thought 

The  image  I  in  vain  had  sought, 


The  Abbot  Joachim  155 

And  which  forever  shall  remain ; 

As  sometimes  from  these  windows  high, 

Gazing  at  midnight  oh  the  sky 

Black  with  a  storm  of  wind  and  rain, 

I  have  beheld  a  sudden  glare 

Of  lightning  lay  the  landscape  bare, 

With  tower  and  town  and  hill  and  plain 

Distinct,  and  burnt  into  my  brain, 

Never  to  be  effaced  again  ! 

And  I  have  written.     These  volumes  three, 

The  Apocalypse,  the  Harmony 

Of  the  Sacred  Scriptures,  new  and  old, 

And  the  Psalter  with  Ten  Strings,  enfold 

Within  their  pages,  all  and  each, 

The  Eternal  Gospel  that  I  teach. 

Well  I  remember  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven 

Hath  been  likened  to  a  little  leaven 

Hidden  in  two  measures  of  meal, 

Until  it  leavened  the  whole  mass ; 

So  likewise  will  it  come  to  pass 

With  the  doctrine  that  I  here  conceal. 

Open  and  manifest  to  me 

The  truth  appears,  and  must  be  told ; 

All  sacred  mysteries  are  threefold  ; 

Three  Persons  in  the  Trinity, 

Three  Ages  of  Humanity, 

And  Holy  Scriptures  likewise  Three, 


156  First  Interlude 

Of  Fear,  of  Wisdom,  and  of  Love  j 
For  Wisdom  that  begins  in  Fear 
Endeth  in  Love  ;  the  atmosphere 
In  which  the  soul  delights  to  be, 
And  finds  that  perfect  liberty, 
Which  cometh  only  from  above. 

In  the  first  Age,  the  early  prime 

And  dawn  of  all  historic  time, 

The  Father  reigned  ;  and  face  to  face 

He  spake  with  the  primeval  race. 

Bright  Angels,  on  his  errands  sent, 

Sat  with  the  patriarch  in  his  tent ; 

His  prophets  thundered  in  the  street ; 

His  lightnings  flashed,  his  hail-storms  beat 

In  tempest  and  in  cloud  he  came, 

In  earthquake  and  in  flood  and  flame ! 

The  fear  of  God  is  in  his  Book ; 

The  pages  of  the  Pentateuch 

Are  full  of  the  terror  of  his  name. 

Then  reigned  the  Son  ;  his  Covenant 
Was  peace  on  earth,  good-will  to  man ; 
With  him  the  reign  of  Law  began. 
He  was  the  Wisdom  and  the  Word, 
And  sent  his  Angels  Ministrant, 
Unterrified  and  undeterred 
To  rescue  souls  forlorn  and  lost, 
The  troubled,  tempted,  tempest-tost, 


The  Abbot  Joachim  157 

To  heal,  to  comfort,  and  to  teach. 

The  fiery  tongues  of  Pentecost 

His  symbols  were,  that  they  should  preach 

In  every  form  of  human  speech, 

From  continent  to  continent. 

He  is  the  Light  Divine,  whose  rays 

Across  the  thousand  years  unspent 

Shine  through  the  darkness  of  our  days, 

And  touch  with  their  celestial  fires 

Our  churches  and  our  convent  spires. 

His  Book  is  the  New  Testament. 

These  Ages  now  are  of  the  Past ; 
And  the  Third  Age  begins  at  last. 
The  coming  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
The  reign  of  Grace,  the  reign  of  Love 
Brightens  the  mountain-tops  above, 
And  the  dark  outline  of  the  coast. 
Already  the  whole  land  is  white 
With  convent  walls,  as  if  by  night 
A  snow  had  fallen  on  hill  and  height ! 
Already  from  the  streets  and  marts 
Of  town  and  traffic,  and  low  cares, 
Men  climb  the  consecrated  stairs 
With  weary  feet,  and  bleeding  hearts  j 
And  leave  the  world,  and  its  delights, 
Its  passions,  struggles,  and  despairs, 
For  contemplation  and  for  prayers 
In  cloister-cells  of  Coenobites. 


158  First  Interlude 

Eternal  benedictions  rest 

Upon  thy  name,  Saint  Benedict ! 

Founder  of  convents  in  the  West, 

Who  built  on  Mount  Cassino's  crest 

In  the  Land  of  Labor,  thine  eagle's  nest ! 

May  I  be  found  not  derelict 

In  aught  of  faith  or  godly  fear, 

If  I  have  written,  in  many  a  page, 

The  Gospel  of  the  coming  age, 

The  Eternal  Gospel  men  shall  hear. 

O  may  I  live  resembling  thee, 

And  die  at  last  as  thou  hast  died ; 

So  that  hereafter  men  may  see, 

Within  the  choir,  a  form  of  air, 

Standing  with  arms  outstretched  in  prayer, 

As  one  that  hath  been  crucified ! 

My  work  is  finished  ;  I  am  strong 
In  faith  and  hope  and  charity ; 
For  I  have  written  the  things  I  see, 
The  things  that  have  been  and  shall  be, 
Conscious  of  right,  nor  fearing  wrong ; 
Because  I  am  in  love  with  Love, 
And  the  sole  thing  I  hate  is  Hate ; 
For  Hate  is  death  ;  and  Love  is  life, 
A  peace,  a  splendor  from  above  ; 
And  Hate,  a  never-ending  strife, 
A  smoke,  a  blackness  from  the  abyss 
Where  unclean  serpents  coil  and  hiss ! 


The  Abbot  Joachim  159 


Love  is  the  Holy  Ghost  within ; 
Hate  the  unpardonable  sin  ! 
Who  preaches  otherwise  than  this, 
Betrays  his  Master  with  a  kiss  ! 


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